Unpredictable
by Purity Black
Summary: Complete! Several years after series 4, Jean has left the Institute. But anti-mutant crimes and a face from the past will change her life. . . JEANCE!
1. Default Chapter

Another fic by Purity Black! I shouldn't be beginning this right now because I'm still half-way through another, but I will update at least once a fortnight. And I couldn't resist! The idea was just there and hanging around my brain, hammering on my cerebral cortex until it was written down.

This fic will be rated R because of the content. However, there is an NC-17 version on Evo-over 18, which is pretty much the same except I go into a lot more detail…

I owe the writing of this fic to Joriel, who sowed the seeds for the future of Jeance. Also to Furygrrl, who's love of Jeance persuaded me to write my first one-shot on the subject and made me appreciate this somewhat odd but always entertaining couple!


	2. Explosion of Violence

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters portrayed herein, unless you never heard of them before. Then I made them up to help the story along.

Jean Grey shoved a strand of hair behind her ear as she peered into the microscope and adjusted the lens slightly. Examining the DNA of mutants had been fascinating, but sadly it didn't shed any new light on a big problem. The sudden resurgence of Pow-R-8 had the mutants of America in an uproar, especially since the news that a number of frightened citizens had taken to carrying the stuff in spray bottles and were using it on the mutant population as a form of mace. It was poisonous even through skin contact and a number of mutants had been outed because of it. The students at her old school, Bayville High, had been spraying each other to ensure that their friends were human, according to the Professor. Many of the students at the Institute were becoming afraid to attend school and four had already been hurt. In some places the substance had been banned, but with Robert Kelly as Mayor it was unlikely to happen in Bayville. He had been elected on an anti-mutant stance and was staunchly insisting that it was the right of the 'normal' humans to protect themselves. In the meantime, mutants were being poisoned.

What was really needed was a level of tolerance for those in society whose genes set them apart from others. With that option being unlikely, the next best thing was an antidote to or a preventative for the toxic eliminators that were harmless to most and possibly lethal to mutants.

Jean was struggling to find one.

Her first-class degree in genetics was being put to good use. She had earned a place studying the mutant gene in a lab, where her mutation was known about and accepted. The founder of the lab was deeply interested in any news about the mutant gene and how much further DNA may mutate. He had been ever since his only son had grown wings and joined the X-Men. If Angel was about to experience any problems in the future due to his advanced evolution, Warren Worthington II wanted to know what to expect. Money was no object.

She applied the latest serum she had formulated to the blood sample, hoping that this would be the breakthrough she'd been searching for. Eagerly she watched as the serum was absorbed by the affected blood sample – then groaned in dismay as the serum seemed to actually speed up the absorption rate and the blood was overwhelmed by Pow-R-8.

"Damn." She straightened up and glared at the serum. Another failure. She rubbed her temples briefly, then looked up at the television mounted in the corner. There was no one else in the lab; they'd all gone home. It was late and only she remained behind, still looking for the elusive cure. The other scientists working there were dedicated, but they weren't mutants. They didn't have to walk down the streets wondering if they were about to have poison sprayed in their faces. Even if they did, Pow-R-8 was harmless to humans. All that would happen to them would be sticky skin. And she was a well-known mutant, having been seen fighting a giant robot on the news while she was still in high school, then later on battling another mutant with plans for turning all humans into mutants. If even one person recognised her…

Not liking where the thoughts were leading, she used her telekinesis to turn on the TV. She found the news channel and left it there, hoping that there would be some information about the Pow-R-8 debate. There had been a petition delivered to the President calling for a nationwide ban on the substance. The President had seemed dubious about outlawing what amounted to a fizzy drink.

The broadcaster was discussing the weather and Jean took the opportunity to go down to the small kitchen and make herself a coffee. She took it back into the lab with her. No one was supposed to have food or drink near the samples, but the possibility of contamination was the last thing on her mind.

"…This just in." The Broadcaster looked down at his papers, which Jean was willing to bet were blank. His eyes kept twitching to the right, the sure sign of some one reading from the autocue. "An explosion at a church in Bayville has left one dead and several people injured. It is thought that the blast was the result of a bomb attack. The church has been petitioned by protesters after allowing an ordained mutant to preach to the congregation…"

Jean gasped as the picture came on screen. She recognised the church as the place where only the week before, Kurt had spoken before a big crowd. She would never have thought that the joker of the Institute would decide to devote his life to God, but he had always been religious and they'd been proud to witness his sermon. Especially as he'd appeared without his image inducer. There had been an outcry from some of the parishioners, but others had been moved by his sincerity and his words about loving ones fellow man. It had been the first time that Jean had set foot in the church for a long time…

_…And what if he was still helping out at the church?_

Closing her eyes, Jean concentrated on reaching the Professor telepathically. It was only seconds before she received a reply.

_…are you all right Jean…_

_…I'm fine, but Kurt…_

_…he was at the Institute at the time, he's uninjured…_

_…does he know…_

_…yes, a team went out to see if they could help…_

_…I'm worried Professor…_

_…as am I. I wish you would return to the Institute…_

_…I can't. My home's here now and I won't be chased out of it…_

_…your research…_

_…no breakthrough. I'll phone…_

Jean tuned out of the conversation. All she needed to know was that Kurt was safe. Although she no longer considered herself an X-Man, she kept in close contact with the Institute and the people she called her friends. But they no longer needed her as they had done when mutants had first been exposed and in spite of her goal of helping other mutants, she wanted to do so on her own terms, which meant leading her own life and leaving the Institute. If she ran back there every time there was a vague threat, she would never learn to cope alone.

She looked back at the television, wondering who the dead person was. Righteousness was a poor replacement for a loved one. Knowing one was true to a belief did not bring home the dead. It was the steadily rising numbers of victims in an undeclared war that made Jean nervous. She doubted that it would be too long before there was real trouble and then she might have to return to the mansion and begin fighting alongside the X-Men again. In spite of her desire to lead a normal life, she was unwilling to do so at the expense of her beliefs.

"…In other news, a boy suspected of being a mutant was beaten into a coma earlier today as he walked home from school. It is thought that he was exposed to the controversial Pow-R-8, which causes a strong allergic reaction in mutants, alerting his classmates to his powers…"

_Strong allergic reaction_ thought Jean bitterly. _Like anthrax. Who's kidding who?_

Gazing at the news wasn't helping her. She knew she ought to continue with her research, but she'd bee at the lab since 7am and now it was dark. What she really wanted was to grab something to eat, then return to her apartment and have a long soak in the tub. She was no closer to the cure than she had been that morning and at least she would be refreshed to begin her research anew tomorrow.

With that in mind, she hung her lab jacket on the peg and locked the lab behind her. It was situated in an industrial block and she waved goodbye to a few people no her way out, grinning at the doorman as he opened the door for her. The café at the end of the block was open late and made a fantastic Cesar salad. A plate of that and a cup of coffee and she would return home and phone the Institute, see how badly morale had been hit by this latest incident.

The heat from the grills and the smells of cooking hit her as she opened the door to the café. Joel, the proprietor, looked up and grinned at her as he took money from another customer. "Jean! Sit, I'll bring you over a coffee."

"Thanks," she called over, taking a chair at her usual table. She ate here far too often these days. If she went straight home, she was either too tired to prepare a meal or else she would find herself trying to find something that hadn't passed its expiry date. Her apartment was for sleeping in only theses days, in spite of her original desire to turn it into a haven from the craziness of the Institute and the lab.

_But that was when Scott used to come over._

She closed off that train of thought hurriedly. When she was tired, thoughts of Scott would often creep into her mind. She wasn't sorry that it was over between them – not often anyway – but she did wish that there were something more for her to look forward to than her work and her empty apartment. The apartment was the worst. When she was trying to unwind, the silence would get to her, especially after living in the Institute with the others. The other X-Men came over and visited often, but all to often they were caught up in some crisis or other.

Joel brought over a steaming cup of coffee and put it down in front of her. "How are you this evening?"

"Not good to be honest." Jean took no notice of the proprietor's odd appearance, which often put people off staying. Joel was completely normal save for his eyes, which were almost three times the size of other peoples. He had no powers he'd explained to her, he just looked odd. It hurt his business at first, but as his condition became known among the mutant population they had unofficially adopted his café as a friendly meeting place.

"Problems at the office?" Joel looked sympathetic.

"Oh, y'know. I just wonder if I'll ever work this problem out." Jean didn't tell Joel what she did for a living and he didn't ask, although she suspected he already knew. But she was bound to secrecy not just by contract, but also by the urge not to raise false hopes. If anyone found out she was working on the Pow-R-8 problem, she'd never be left alone. Mutants would be asking her how it was going; trying to be supportive, but their real reason for caring would be fear. Now was not a good time to be a mutant.

She lifted her coffee and took a sip as Joel smiled sympathetically at her. "Jean. You are a bright young woman and I'm sure that whatever this problem is, given time you can…"

Joel trailed off and Jean glanced up at him curiously, noting that he wasn't looking at her at all. His gaze was focused on the plate glass window that took up most of the front of the shop. She turned her head in that direction and saw lights, growing brighter and brighter, approaching the window…

"Everybody _down_!"

Jean's shout cut through the chatter in the room and the people turned to the window, not realising the danger they were in. Jean tried desperately to employ her telekinesis, realising it was going to be too little, too late.

The car crashed through the windows, ploughing a path through tables as the crowd scattered. Glass flew; several lethal shards slicing in to the skin of those who only seconds previously had been enjoying a meal. People threw themselves out of the way as Jean focused on slowing the car, only partially succeeding. She had been taken by surprise and the vehicle had been moving too fast. It hit the counter at speed, severing a gas line and smashing into the wall before stopping, crushed. The gas leak hit a grill and the café exploded.

Jean found herself flying backwards.

In front of her she saw others screaming, caught in the path of the blast, catching fire. None of it seemed real. The only thing she could think about was her coffee. She hadn't even drunk half of the cup and if she'd left the lab a half hour earlier she could have enjoyed her drink without the reality that was this terrible sight, without the knowledge that many of the people she'd been sitting amongst were going to die…

Then she hit the ground and she knew nothing more for a long time.


	3. Going Home

Thanks to enfant-terrible for reviewing! I'm glad I could make you like Jean better.

Disclaimer: I don't own the X-Men, the Brotherhood or SHIELD.

SHIELD headquarters was a huge building, with all the latest computer equipment, tracking devices and weaponry that would make any NRA member weep with joy. Nick Fury was sat in his office, enjoying a surreptitious cigar – smoking was not allowed in Government buildings – when the door banged open and in walked the groups' premier operatives.

Fury sighed and stubbed the cigar out. "Back from the Middle East already?"

"You didn't mention any hostages," growled Wanda Maximoff. "Let alone forty of them. Do you know how hard it made our job?"

"We didn't know about them until after you'd left and you requested total radio silence." Fury grabbed the report from his desk drawer. "Anyway, according to this you freed all of them and captured almost all of the terrorists and killed the ones you didn't capture – wait, what's this about a fireball?"

St John Allerdyce looked down at the floor, reminding Fury of a naughty schoolboy in front of the headmaster. "I got a bit over excited."

"The guy was about to open fire on the hostages," added Fred Dukes supportively.

"The important thing is that they were stopped and with no harm to the civilians." Fury threw the report onto his desk and smirked. "I have a new assignment for you. Should be just like old times."

The six people standing in front of his desk looked back at him suspiciously. Everyone knew that when Fury got that look on his face, nothing good was about to happen.

"We have news of a terrorist operation taking out mutants. Their most recent activities include blowing up a church and driving a car through a café. Seven dead altogether and we expect the death toll to rise. I want you to investigate."

"Because we're mutants?" asked Pietro Maximoff.

"No. Because you know the area they're targeting." Fury's grin widened. "How would you like a trip back to Bayville?"

"You've gotta be joking!" Lance Alvers scowled at the thought. "We haven't been back to that dump in years. I was planning never to go back at all!"

"Tough." Fury leant forward. "We've got a frightened mutant population out there, Pow-R-8 is still legal and the Mayor is claiming the attacks are the fault of the victims for living in his town."

"Principal Kelly," recalled Todd Tolansky, none too fondly. "Is he still in charge? Thought he'd have been booted out years ago."

"In both attacks, the X-Men were involved…"

"That's a surprise," muttered Wanda.

"The church that was attacked had hosted Kurt Wagner, a mutant studying for the priesthood."

"No way? Nightcreeper?" Todd laughed. "Who'd of thought it!"

"The café attack involved a car. The accelerator was weighted down with a stone and as soon as the handbrake was released, it drove straight through the window and caused an explosion. One of the injured customers was Dr Jean Grey. I trust you remember her?"

"Oh yeah," said Lance. "No one could forget Little Miss Perfect. She badly hurt?"

"Mild concussion, slight burns. She was lucky. The guy she was talking to was killed."

"Summers?" asked Pietro.

"No, the owner of the café, a Joel Davenport. Also a mutant. The X-Men are leading an investigation of their own, but I want our best team on this. That's you guys."

"Looks like we're going home then," said Fred, not looking happy about it. "I guess we could stay at the Brotherhood house."

"Nope. You need to keep an eye on the X-Men and that means staying at the mansion."

"No way!" Lance looked horrified by the idea. "Staying with the X-geeks? It's not happening!"

"It's a typical bodyguard job," continued Fury, ignoring him. "Try to make sure they don't sneak out, do some undercover work and see if you can find out who these terrorists are and bring them down."

"Assuming they're all still at the mansion, I doubt they'll need us to protect them," grumbled Pietro. "Hell, we'll need some one to protect us _from _them!"

"You're not in high school now," said Fury. "Most of the associates of the X-Men in Bayville live at the Institute. The exceptions are Dr Grey, who lives on Ninth Street, Jubilation Lee, who lives on campus at the University and Danielle Moonstar, who resides in Dark Hollow. Professor Xavier assures me that he's trying to persuade them to return to the mansion until the threat has passed."

"So Xavier knows you're sending us?" asked Todd.

"He knows I'm sending a team," replied Fury. "I forgot to say it was you."

"Oh great," muttered Fred. "They're not gonna like this."

"What did Logan have to say about it?" St John actually looked quite amused at the whole idea, but then he hadn't had as many clashes with the X-Men as the others had.

"He growled a lot, put some scratches in the wall by the sound. I only spoke to them over the phone. Time's wasting. There's a heli-jet waiting for you. Good luck. Oh, and can you keep the property damage to a minimum this time?"

"We're promising nothing," said Wanda.

They went to the landing pad, taking a short detour past their lockers to pick up some spare clothes, grumbling the whole time. In their time at SHIELD they'd faced snipers, terrorists, suicide bombers and religious fanatics, but none of them had been quite as scary as confronting their past. None of them had been on Bayville for years. Wanda and Pietro were vaguely aware that their father was in the area, but on the rare occasions they saw him it was usually in New York, where they shared an apartment and invited him over maybe once a year.

Lance took the controls of the heli-jet, finding that having something to concentrate on helped with his dislike of flying. At least he didn't puke anymore. He was trying to concentrate on the mission objectives, but memories of Bayville kept intruding. He decided that they'd better sort this mess out as soon as possible so that they could leave their old home behind. Hopefully forever.

00000000000000000000000000

"Fury's sending some agents to Bayville to investigate the attacks," Logan told the assembled mutants. "But until this mess is sorted out, all of you are in danger. That means all the students are confined to the mansion except for school. No arguments!"

There were groans from the younger students as the prospect of being stuck in the Institute.

"The rest of you, we can't stop you from leaving the mansion. But I suggest you stay here. We're protected by the defences and there's no need for you to go back to your own places."

"I'm staying for a while," replied Jubilee. "I can go to lectures straight from here and to be honest, I'm not real comfortable being in a dorm where anyone can walk in at the moment."

"I don't think anyone would attack Dark Hollow," said Dani. "It's too far from Bayville. But I'll talk it over with my grandfather, see what he has to say."

"He's welcome to stay here too," said the Professor. "We've plenty of room."

"I want to stay at my apartment," said Jean.

Kitty gave her a look. "Are you mad? Do you know how dangerous that is?"

"More than most," replied Jean, touching the lump on the back of her head. "But I won't let some group of bigots drive me out of my home. And it's closer to the lab."

"With all due respect Jean, I think it would be better for you to remain here at the mansion," said the Professor. "It would make us all feel better."

Jean glanced around at the other mutants, the group who had formed the original X-Men and all the students who had come after them. For a moment she wavered in her conviction – then her glance fell on Emma Frost, who was scowling, sat close to Scott Summers. Jean knew she couldn't stand to be around the woman for too long, not with all the sly little digs about who was his girlfriend now.

"No. I want to go home," she said.

The noise of a heli-jet cut off any further conversation. Logan went to the door. "That must be the team Fury sent out. Who's coming to check them out?"

"We'll go," said the Professor, indicating to himself, Storm and the Beast. "The rest of you, remain here. We'll need to introduce you."

"Fabulous," muttered Jean. She had no desire to meet the SHIELD team, because she had no intention of remaining in the mansion. She just wanted to get back to her apartment.

The four instructors went to the hangar, where the heli-jet was touching down. They'd done their homework, noted Logan with approval. They knew where the hangar was, no hovering around before landing on the tennis court like certain other teams that SHIELD had sent before. They must have studied a map of the mansion.

The door to the heli-jet opened and Logan glanced up, half-expecting some grizzled campaigner carrying enough guns to open his own shop – Fury had promised to send his best team – but nothing could prepare him for the sight that greeted him.

"The Brotherhood? Fury sent the Brotherhood?"

"We haven't been called that for a while," replied Pietro as they strolled out of the heli-jet and gave the X-Men a disdainful look. Five minutes in Bayville and they already felt like the resentful teenagers they'd once been.

St John went over to Logan and slung a friendly arm around the mans shoulders. "Hey there Wolverine! Long time no see, eh?"

"You wanna remain attached to that arm?" growled Logan. St John backed off hurriedly.

"It's…good to see you," said the Professor. "You're the team SHIELD sent?"

"We're the best they got," replied Pietro proudly.

"They must be going downhill then," muttered Logan.

"Can we just get on with our job and investigate these attacks so we can get the hell out of this dump?" Pietro glared at Logan.

"Certainly." The Professor led the way and the Brotherhood trailed behind.

"Sooner we get this sorted, the sooner we can get away from here. No problem." Todd felt seriously uncomfortable in the mansion. It had been a long time since he got his ass kicked and many of those had come at the hands of the X-Men.

A silence fell over Xavier's office as the crowd of mutants looked up and saw the people that were to protect them from further mutant attacks.

"Lance?" Kitty's voice was squeaky and she let go of Piotr's hand quickly. "I didn't know you'd joined SHIELD."

"Years ago." Lance found himself unmoved by the sight of his childhood sweetheart obviously dating the big Russian. He was almost surprised by the lack of emotion, he'd been intensely in love with her in his teens, but it seemed he'd gotten over her. He'd been worried that he'd fall for her again, jeopardise the mission and set himself up for a lot of heartache in the not-too-distant future, but apparently it wasn't too be.

"Wait," said a girl who couldn't be older than thirteen. "Those are Mr Lensherr's kids?"

"We do have names," snapped Pietro, always unhappy to be compared to his father.

"Mr Lensherr?" Wanda looked confused.

"Erik has been aiding us at the Institute with some of the students," Storm informed them.

"It's been a while since we spoke to him," admitted Wanda.

"Enough of all that," said Pietro impatiently. "Can we get on with finding the bad guys so I can get out of this miserable dump?"

The Professor glanced around the room and noticed some one missing. "Where's Jean?"

"She went home," replied Emma a touch smugly. "Said she wasn't gonna be talked out of it and she wanted to feed her cat."

"Jean has a cat now?" asked Kitty.

"I think she was being sarcastic my dear."

"We need to find out what she remembers about the café," said Pietro. "Lance, you go to her place and find out. And get her to come back here. It's a pain in the ass having to baby-sit people in two locations."

"It'd be quicker if you went," said Lance.

"I'm needed here." Pietro grinned at the cool blonde sitting beside Scott and Lance rolled his eyes, knowing where this was heading.

"Fine. What's the address?" Lance wondered vaguely if Summers was dating the woman and what had happened between him and Jean, who had always seemed like the perfect couple.

Pietro told him the address and Lance left, glad to be away from the X-Men. He stopped only long enough to change into his street clothes – no point in frightening the citizens of Bayville by wearing his uniform – before leaving the Institute and heading toward Dr Grey's apartment.


	4. Reunion

Thanks to:

Enfant-terrible – There's defiantly a sexy encounter coming on…for my NC-17 fics, you need to join a site called Evo-over 18. If you go to the reviews, click onto Furygrrls page and the address is there. I'm hopeless at computers or I would put a link up on my own site!

Oceanbang – In a way it is a sequel to Power9! I was asked for more Jeance on a site I'm a member of, and this is the result. I've always loved the X-Men and the way they are not popular superheroes, I thought I'd include a bit of that here. Jean will let us know what happened between her and Scott, but it might take a few chapters yet.

Jen1703 – I'm glad that Evo-over 18 could bring you to this fic (and you're right, it's easier to review in fanfic) and I've noted your plug for your fic which I'm gonna check out as soon as I finish this (we're all a member of Evo-over 18 for the fics after all, I fully recommend 'Measuring up' which I only just read and made me howl laughing!). This is the first time I've tried canon Jean, I hope she's still in character and interesting by the time the fic is over!

Anc7 – It's not a common pairing, but I hope you like it!

Furygrrl – You made my night, seriously. Two good reviews for a fic I was unsure anyone was reading! The NC-17 parts will of course be on Evo-over 18 and the R rated here. I'm so into this fic, it is tons of fun to write! And on the subject of fics, I'm going to see RE2 on the 11th, so you want PB to have another night standing by the bedroom door with a cosh, that would be the night (lol).

Disclaimer: I own nowt.

Jean was sprawled on the couch, shoes off, stereo on, when there was a knock at the door. She sighed. It was probably Kitty or Kurt, come to talk her into staying at the mansion. There was no way anyone else could gain admittance to the building, not when the outside door could only be opened by a key or by some one in the apartments buzzing them in.

"Come in!" she called. The door was locked, but that wouldn't be a problem for Kitty or Kurt. And she didn't really feel like moving. It had been a rough couple of days.

There was a pause, then the door opened. Jean sat up in a hurry. As far as she knew, only Ororo and Remy had the know-how to pick a lock and it was doubtful that either of them would do so to gain entry to her place. Which meant that the intruder was probably an enemy.

She readied herself to attack the person telekinetically, but stopped in confusion when they stepped into the apartment.

"Lance?"

"Hey." Lance glanced around. "Nice place."

"But…what are you doing here? No one's seen any of you in years!"

"SHIELD sent me." Lance checked out the framed certificate on the wall. "You're a doctor?"

"A geneticist. You're with SHIELD?"

"Yeah. We've been sent to take care of the people blowing up the mutants of Bayville. Place hasn't changed much. Unfortunately."

"The Brotherhood's their best team?"

"Is that so hard to believe?"

Jean checked him out. He'd certainly changed in the years away from Bayville. He had always been tall, but now he'd gained muscle too. He seemed calm; the aura of barely-contained anger that had always been a part of him was gone. His eyes remained the same though, that deep brown that had she had always admired, especially when she'd been dating a man whose eyes were permanently concealed. "I guess not. It's just a shock."

Lance sat in the chair opposite the couch. "Look, we're here to keep the mutant population safe and to find out who these creeps are and the quicker we do that, the sooner I can get away from here. It'd be a lot easier if you went back to…"

"No!" Jean glared at him. "I've fought hard for my independence and I don't want it taken from me by some extremist group. I won't live in fear and I won't hide."

Lance gave her a look of grudging admiration. "It'll make it much harder for me to stay in contact with the rest of the team if you don't."

"Hello, I'm a telepath remember? I can get in touch with them anytime."

"No offence Jean, but you're a civilian and you're not to get involved in this."

"Too late." Jean thought back to the night of the café, the smell of burning and the sight of people on fire running around screaming. "I'm already involved."

Lance nodded. "And you're not to get any more involved. You've got a normal life now and I know you can look after yourself but you ought to leave it up to us."

"I'll try."

"I'll need to check out the security measures around here – I managed to walk straight in. These locks wouldn't keep anyone out. And I'll have to have a look around your office too."

"I don't have an office. I work in a lab."

"I'll still have to check it out. What do you do in this lab?"

"I research mutant DNA mostly. At the moment we're looking for an antidote to the toxic eliminators in Pow-R-8."

Lance looked thoughtful. "If some one with a grudge against mutants found out about that, they'd see you as an enemy. Maybe you should take some time off while we find out who's behind this."

"Haven't you heard a word I've said? I can't take time off, not now! I'm not going to let these creeps ruin my life. And what we're researching is important! Did you know that the kids in Bayville High take Pow-R-8 to school in spray bottles and use them on each other? Because it's not harmful to the normal kids, the faculty looks the other way, but four students from the Institute have been poisoned! If we're to prevent any more kids getting hurt, I _have_ to keep working!"

"Fine!" Lance scowled. "But if I find anything in that lab that's a security risk…"

"Then you'll fix it and I'll keep researching."

Lance growled, but knew he was powerless to stop her if that was what she wanted to do. Rather than argue about it anymore, he pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and dialled Pietro's number. He stood up and went over to the window as Pietro answered.

"Hey Lance! You get that goody-good Grey to come back to the Institute?"

"Uh, not exactly…"

There was a loud crash in the background and Lance frowned. "What was that?"

"Toad tried cuddling up to Wanda again."

"He never quits, I'll give him that." Lance noticed a grey van outside, parked on the double yellows. "What's it like at the mansion?"

"Tense. Why isn't she coming back to the Institute?"

"She doesn't want to and I can't force her – she's a telepath! She could probably make me back off if I push it."

"Damn right," said Jean smugly.

Pietro sighed. "Then you'll have to stay there until we sort this out. Damn, I hate it when some stupid civilian screws up all our plans."

"Me? Why me? Why not Wanda? It'd be more appropriate."

"Wanda's not exactly tactful. She'd try to bully Jean into coming back to the mansion. St John wouldn't last two minutes without torching the place – he's already set fire to the Danger Room and it's supposed to be fireproof. Fred used to have a crush on her, bad idea for him to go. And can you imagine Toad hanging around Jean?"

"I guess not." Lance sighed. "She won't stay away from the lab either. I'll have to check the security there. Are you near the computer?"

"I can be."

"Run a check on some plates for me." Lance reeled off the number of the grey van and waited a few seconds for Pietro to get to the computer.

"Belongs to a Graydon Creed," reported Pietro. "Recently moved to Bayville. Is there a problem?"

"I don't know yet." Lance could see that the driver's seat was empty, but something about the name was familiar. "Does that name ring any bells?"

"I don't know. I think I've heard it before, but I don't know where. Maybe it'll come to us."

"It'd better."

"No rap sheet. He's clean. Not even a parking ticket."

"Do you know anything else about him?"

"I can find out. You stay put, baby-sit the doc. I'll get back to you if I find out anything else."

Lance hit the cut-off button and gave the van a final glance. It was probably perfectly innocent, but something about the van that made him nervous.

"Do you think some one's following me?" asked Jean, trying not to sound nervous.

"No, it's probably nothing." Lance turned back to Jean. "I'm staying here for a while."

"Where?" Jean cast an eye around her small apartment. The only bedroom was separated from the main area and there was nowhere else for some one of his height to sleep, unless he took the living room floor. The couch was only a two-seater and the chair was uncomfortable.

"I guess I'll take the couch," said Lance, looking a bit doubtful himself. "Got a spare blanket?"

"Yeah," replied Jean.

"I'm going to the store," said Lance. "I need to replace those locks with something a bit sturdier. You stay here. Lock the door behind me."

"I'm going with you," said Jean, standing up. "I need some stuff."

"But…"

"I'm going with you." Jean telekinetically lifted her coat from where she had carelessly thrown it. "Besides, if you came by heli-jet you won't have a car. We'll take mine."

Lance waited while she locked the door behind them. "Do you still have the SUV?"

"Nope. When I moved out of the Institute, there was no need to have a big car. I traded it for a convertible. How about you? Still got that jeep?"

"It died," replied Lance as they took the elevator down to the street. "I've got a new rig, but I left it behind. I'll drive."

"You will not." Jean pulled her car keys out of her pocket and twirled them around her finger. "That's my car, the red one."

A squeal of tyres made them both look around. Lance noticed the grey van pull away and drive down the road at speed.

"What's his hurry?" Jean walked over to the driver's side and paused. "I must have left the door unlocked. Good thing it wasn't stolen…"

"Oh shit!"

Lance grabbed Jean around the waist and yanked her away from the car. He spun her around before she could protest and took a hurried step away from the car.

Before he could get any further away from the car, it exploded, showering the street with chunks of metal. He shoved her to the floor and covered her body with his own, vaguely aware that if any of the debris hit him, it was going to hurt.

Jean glanced over her shoulder and formed a telekinetic bubble around them. Burning metal bounced harmlessly off it and Lance managed to sit up, checking out the wreckage.

"I'd say some one's out to get you," he said grimly.

Jean checked out the scrapes on her hands and knees, looking dumbly at her burning car. People were hurrying over to check out the scene. She had been about to climb into that car. If it hadn't been for Lance, she'd be dead.

"But who? And…and why?"

"I promise you Jean," replied Lance. "I'm going to find out."


	5. Mysteries and Conversations

Disclaimer: I oen nothing.

Thanks to:

Reeny: I have to admit it was Furygrrl who was the biggest fan of the little bit of Jeance I wrote in Power9 and her fic got me interested in the subject. Don't worry, Emma is only a very minor character, I think she's already played her biggest role!

Furygrrl – Double reviews! YAY! Hope you're feeling better soon. Jean and Lance are gonna spend the next chapter REALLY noticing each other, but right now they're working on who's trying to kill the mutants (and it draws heavily from comics for the background, although I twisted it quite a lot!). And as to how your fics are – I'm loving the Jeance and you know how I feel about TGS!

Enfant-terrible – I think Graydon is a great character! And I'd love to see how he'd deal with a mutation of his own.

Oceanbang – Creed's in Bayville for a reason and you know it can't be good! I'm hoping for the Jeance to be kinda subtle in the beginning at least. But there will be gratuitous happenings later in the fic.

Unpredictable

Chapter 4

"It's a professional job, that's for sure." Pietro had checked the wreckage of the car in record time, isolating the remains of the bomb. "Looks like a remote control deal. More accurate than a couple of sticks of dynamite taped to the ignition. She wouldn't even need to start the car."

"No attempt to make it look like an accident then," said Wanda. "Either they like taking risks, or they want people to know it was deliberate. Sounds like scare tactics."

"I think Jean's plenty scared already," said Lance, glancing up at the window of the apartment.

"Does that mean she'll stay at the Institute?" asked Wanda.

"Exactly the opposite," replied Lance. "She's determined not to be driven out. This just made her want to stay put."

"But this makes me wonder if the car through the café window was a general attempt at mass murder or if it was a way of getting to Jean." Pietro scowled at the remains of the car. "You say she's working on a Pow-R-8 antidote?"

"Yeah, maybe some one doesn't want her to find one."

"I'll lift security tapes from the lab, see if there's anyone hanging around who shouldn't be," said Wanda.

"And we ought to check the ones around here, if there are any." Pietro glanced around the street. "There might be one that shows the car and we can see who messed with it."

"Why do I get the feeling it won't be that easy?" Lance crossed his arms as a truck arrived to move the mangled remains of the car and take it to the police station. "Look, you two better go back to the mansion, the others have held the fort long enough. We need to find some indication of who's doing this, before anything else happens."

"I don't like this at all," said Wanda. "We shouldn't be leaving you and Jean here alone. Why can't she just come to the mansion?"

"You wouldn't," Pietro reminded her. "You'd stay put until the guy tried to get to you again, then you'd hex him into the middle of next week!"

"Yeah, but Jean's supposed to be smart."

"I'll let you know if we find out anything," said Pietro. "C'mon Wanda, let's get back to the Institute before Pyro torches anything else."

Lance raised an eyebrow. "Anything else? I thought he just scorched the Danger Room a little."

"That was then. He's chased half the students around with a flaming dragon and done some major damage to Summers' car. Oh, and he seems to think that Wolverine is his best friend and keeps following him around."

"You'd better go stop him then," said Lance. Pyro was a good guy to have around on their missions, but he did tend to be a little reckless when he got bored and he got bored very easily.

Pietro picked his sister up and they were gone. Lance watched the police struggling to get the remains of the convertible onto the truck for a minute or so, then went back to the apartment. Fortunately, Pietro had brought him some equipment so he could improve the locks, but no lock in the world would help if these guys were as into bombs as they seemed to be.

He knocked on the door and Jean opened it quickly. Lance frowned. "You ought to check and make sure you know the person before you open the door."

"I scanned your mind," replied Jean. "Did you find anything?"

"Bomb was operated by remote control. Had to be some one nearby. Have you noticed anyone you don't know hanging around near here, or near the lab?"

"I don't think so." Jean thought carefully, but she didn't remember seeing anything out of the ordinary. "The lab's in a building with a bunch of other offices though."

"So anyone could have been watching you and you might not even know about it." Lance sighed. Was nothing ever easy?

"I can telepathically scan everyone in the lab, make sure they don't want to sabotage me. I don't like doing it, but I guess we need to be sure."

"Does anyone at the lab know you're a mutant?"

"Sure, they all do."

"Are you Government funded?"

"No, we're funded by Worthington Industries. Do you remember Angel? His father owns the company."

Hearing his cell phone bleeping, Lance took it out of his pocket and checked the message. St John had texted 'Check out the dickhead on channel 29'. Lance picked up the remote control; ignoring the dark look that Jean gave him, turning on the channel. His mood was not improved when he realised the 'dickhead' was none other than his former Principal Robert Kelly, partaking in a question and answer session.

"…Normal humans of Bayville need to protect themselves."

"Only a few days ago, a mutant café in Bayville was attacked. Before that, a church that supports mutant rights was bombed. Surely this is more than the normal humans protecting themselves. These are violent and unprovoked incidents."

Kelly glared at the interviewer. "The people of Bayville live in fear every day, afraid that they'll be caught in the crossfire of another mutant grudge fight or that their children are attending school with genetic anomalies who could seriously injure or even kill them with just a thought. They're demanding that these…_people_…are segregated away from them."

"Many towns have banned the controversial Pow-R-8 drink, due to the so-called 'toxic eliminators' being harmful and possibly even lethal to the mutant population. Yet not only have you as Mayor continually allowed the drink for sale, your town hosts the main supply plant. Would you care to explain your acceptance of this substance?"

"The Pow-R-8 plant provides jobs in Bayville. And the ill effects of Pow-R-8 have not been proved to be lethal or even particularly harmful, certainly no more so than cigarettes or alcohol and we allow the sale of those. All Pow-R-8 does is expose mutants for what they are, allowing us to be on our guard against them. They try to blend in amongst normal humans, but I assure you, they are not normal."

Jean shuddered. Two days before some one had driven a car through the window of a café, killing six people, and this guy thought it was self-defence? She could still hear the screams every time she tried to go to sleep. She doubted she'd ever be able to forget it. And the terror that everyone in the building had felt had affected her as a telepath, their fear strong enough to cut through her psychic defences. Pow-R-8 was toxic to mutants and their Mayor wanted to manufacture it in their town. And now some crazed anti-mutant fanatic had tried to blow her up…

"Turn it off Lance," she said softly.

He'd been glaring at the TV, looking more like the teenage boy she remembered as he watched the man who had expelled him from school dismiss the anxieties of the mutant population. But when he looked at her, he turned it off in a hurry. Jean had gone pale and she was twisting a lock of hair around her finger. She'd been through a lot and the last thing she needed was any more upset.

"Sorry," he said. "Guess that prick'll never change."

"Probably not."

"I'm going to sort out these locks." Lance grabbed the bag that Pietro had brought over and went to the door to attach them. Jean watched him for a moment, then tried to go back to her novel. She'd been quite enjoying it when she began to read, but she was unsurprised to find it hard to concentrate.

Her eyes left the page and she found her gaze drawn to Lance again. He was humming under his breath as he went about sorting out her new locks, a look of concentration on his face and a strand of hair continually falling into his eyes. He would jerk his head back impatiently to get it out of the way, only for it to fall back a few seconds later.

I'm glad he's here. I'd be afraid to be on my own right now… 

He looked up suddenly and Jean realised she'd been staring. She quickly glanced back at her novel, pretending to be absorbed in reading.

"You should be alright with these now," said Lance, testing the various locks. "It'd take me ages to break in now and I'm pretty good at it."

"They teach you how to break into peoples houses at SHIELD?"

"Some of it. The rest I picked up myself." He grinned at her.

"Do you…"

She broke off as her phone rang. Picking it up from the table, she noticed Rogue's name on the called ID. "Hey Rogue."

"Hey Jean. You OK?"

"You heard about the car then."

"The Brotherhood just told us. Jubilee's refusing to go back to class tomorrow and Danielle and her grandfather moved into the mansion temporarily. We all wish you'd reconsider coming home."

"This is my home now. Besides, Lance is here."

"Yeah, the walking Richter scale. You know he sets of earthquakes every time he gets pissed off. The neighbours'll love that."

"There hasn't been a single earth tremor yet."

"If some one's really out to get you, you'll be much safer at the mansion."

"Not gonna happen Rogue. How's things at the Institute?"

"Pietro's trying to charm Emma, so Scott's pissed. Pyro wants to be friends with Logan, so he's pissed. Toad's teasing Kurt about the priesthood, so he's pissed. Wanda's scaring the crap out of all the kids, so they're pissed. And Blob's taken over the kitchen to cook the biggest meal ever and it's Kitty's turn to do dinner, so she's pissed."

"You can always tell when the Brotherhood are around."

"Word of advice Jean? Ah managed to get through first, but all the others are trying to call. If you wanna get any peace at all, sent the Prof a message and turn off the phone or else you'll never get left alone."

"I'll do that."

"Remy, would you go jump out of a window or something? Sorry Jean, ah gotta go. You're not really going into work tomorrow are you?"

"Yeah, but Lance is going with me."

"Why doesn't that make me feel any better? You take care of yourself."

"You too. See you."

Jean hit the cut-off button and grinned ruefully. It might be nice to be back at the mansion just to see the chaos that the Brotherhood were bringing…

The phone began ringing again, Kitty's number showing in the caller ID. Suddenly aware that she was alone in her apartment with the girl's ex-boyfriend, she cut off the call and telepathically spoke to the Professor.

_…are you all right Jean… _

_…yes, but I'm going to bed, could you ask the others not to phone me… _

_…I'll do that goodnight… _

Lance gave her a look. "Were you just doing that telepathy thing?"

"Just asking the Professor to keep everyone off the phone." Jean stood up. "Look, it's been a long day, what with the murder attempt and everything. I'm going to bed. I'll grab you the spare blanket."

"Yeah, thanks," said Lance absently, going over to the window and looking around outside. Jean felt momentarily hurt that he wasn't paying more attention to her, then chided herself for being ridiculous. He was there to make sure she was safe, not to worry about her emotional state.

Jean grabbed the spare duvet from the cupboard, put it on the sofa and went into her room without another word. Lance waited for ten minutes, keeping an eye out for anything suspicious but seeing nothing. Then he went over to the fridge and grabbed a carton of milk, pulling his phone out of his pocket and calling Pietro.

"Anything to report?" asked Pietro.

"Nothing. It's all gone quiet. You?"

"Got a hit on the Creed name," said Pietro smugly. "You'll never guess who recognised it."

"Who?"

"Logan. Heard me mention it to the others and burst into the room ranting like a maniac."

"So who is he?"

"Graydon Creed, I wasn't sure of 'til I got back onto the computer. But his father is one Victor Creed, better known to you and me as Sabretooth."

"Sabretooth!" Lance paused in the process of taking a glass from the cupboard. "That can't be coincidence."

"I asked Pyro why he didn't recognise the name. He said he did, but Logan burst in before he could mention it. I think he's just sulking because Iceman busted his lighter."

"Wanda made him lose the flamethrowers then?"

"Oh yeah. What I don't understand is what connection to all this Sabretooth has. It's not really his style is it?"

"Maybe it's got nothing to do with him. Just because his kid shows up in town doesn't mean he's behind it. Which poor woman was sick enough to do the deed with Sabey?"

"Leni Zauber. I'll look into her background too, although I dunno that it'll help. But Graydon Creed's about the best link we've got at the moment. I'm gonna see if Magneto knows anything. He's out of town at the moment, but he's due back at the Institute soon. Xavier says he's coming back early because of all this."

"Good luck with that."

"I'm gonna need it." Pietro went quiet for a moment. "I might let Wanda deal with him. He doesn't know whether to be afraid of her or to treat her like a Daddy's girl since the Mastermind thing. But if anyone knows about Sabretooth's history, it's him."

"Doesn't Logan know anything?"

"Not about this. He's got gaping holes in his memory apparently. Can't tell me anything about Sabretooth's family."

"That's just great. And you can't find anything out about him?"

"I'm running a face recognition scan on this computer – it's a helluva hard drive by the way – but since I'm not sure what to look for, it might take a while even for me."

"Maybe you should start with some of the news footage for the anti-mutant riots that have been going on around here and if there's been any where he lived before." Lance poured himself a drink and blinked as the milk came out of the carton smelling slightly strange. Jean having sour milk in the fridge did not fit his image of her. On the other hand, she'd had a stressful few days.

"Good thinking," said Pietro. "I'll call if I find anything. Wanda's been trying to find out from Nightcrawler if he saw anything or anyone around the church when he was there. Pyro went down there to see if he can work anything out. That's the thing that doesn't fit. If the other two incidents were an attempt at Jean, then why the church? Or maybe we're wrong and the attacks are just random anti-mutant crimes."

"Did the X-Men send a team down to the church while it was burning?" Lance poured the milk down the sink and opted for a glass of water instead.

"Of course they did. Nightcrawler, Iceman, Cyclops, Shadowcat, Colossus. Why?"

"I wonder if the person who torched the church knew that Jean had left the X-Men? Maybe it was an attempt to draw her out."

"That would mean that sometime between the church and the café attacks, she was found and stalked without her noticing. This is Jean Grey we're talking about remember. Not only is she a telepath, she's got experience at this kind of thing. Anyone following her would have to be very, very good."

"I guess it could all be coincidence." Lance went back over to the window and looked out again. "But something about it feels wrong. Do you have an address for this Graydon Creed?"

"Yeah, but when Wanda called the address the woman who answered told her that she'd thrown him out. Also she called Wanda a 'slutty tramp'. I've never seen her look so taken back."

Lance laughed at the image. "I suppose he didn't leave a forwarding address."

"Nope. I got Toad to call and sound official, you know how these jilted women love to get a guy into trouble, but she said she didn't know where he'd gone but we should try 'ho's R us'."

"Work address?"

"He quit."

"Great."

"We'll find him. And then we'll probably find that he's perfectly innocent. In the meantime, let me get on with the face recognition scans."

Lance frowned as he terminated the call. In his experience, coincidences of that size just didn't happen. But he couldn't work out Sabretooth's role in the whole thing. And was Creed a mutant too?

Deciding that Jean had to be asleep by now, noticing no light from beneath her bedroom door, he stripped down to his boxers and tried to fold himself up on the tiny couch. It wasn't the most uncomfortable place he'd ever slept, but it was damn close. He pulled his knees up toward his chest, then gave up and switched the TV back on. A late night sit-com did little to distract his attention from the thoughts whirling through his head, but in the end he managed to fall asleep.


	6. Nothing More Than Feelings

Thanks to:

Furygrrl – I just love the thought of Pyro being Logan's best friend! I thought of it watching 'Cajun Spice' again. Another chapter with no explosions, I'm slipping…

Oceanbang – More Brotherhood in the mansion in the next chapter! And the plot is gonna take a few more twists yet…

Disclaimer: "Do I look funny to you? Funny like a mutant funny?" Uh sorry, I'm watching 'Mainstream'. I own only two of the characters herein and they only have a couple of lines. None of the good characters are mine. Life sucks.

The phone rang, the Slipknot song 'Vermilion' indicating that the Scarlet Witch was on the line. Lance awoke, groaned and reached for it, vaguely grateful that it lit up when it rang. The light from the TV was too faint to make out the buttons otherwise.

"Wanda?"

"This is gonna be trouble," she said bluntly. "Graydon Creed was at no less than four anti-mutant rallies that turned nasty in Bayville over the last four months."

"So the guy's pissed about mutants being treated like shit. Aren't you?"

"You've got it wrong. He was with the protesters."

"What?" Lance managed to sit upright, wincing at the stiffness in his muscles. "You mean he's anti-mutant? I thought he was Sabretooth's kid."

"Looks like he has daddy-issues. He wears a Friends of Humanity T-shirt on all the videos we have of him."

Lance felt a headache coming on. The Friends of Humanity were a recently formed group with strong views on the mutant issue. Living in peace was not a part of their philosophy. Some groups wanted registration, others segregation, but the Friends of Humanity wanted the total eradication of mutants from the United States and it was only a matter of time before sympathisers in other countries joined their cause.

"He smacked some guy with big eyes over the head with a board reading 'Mutants, Go Back Where You Came From' at one rally," continued Wanda.

"No thanks," muttered Lance. "Northbrook wasn't much better than Bayville."

"The guy he hit was a Joel Davenport, the owner of the café that got attacked. Wasn't badly hurt though, not then at least. The cops took creed away, but there's no record of him even being cautioned. It's like he got into the cruiser and let out as soon as they got around the first corner."

"Maybe they did. I doubt mutant rights are a high priority for the local police force."

"Or some one hacked in to the police computer and changed the records. But why bother? Paper records would show that he was there."

"You think he's got a friend on the force?"

"That would be my guess. And if he's involved with the Friends of Humanity, then it's not hard to believe they'd be involved in this kind of terrorism."

"This is not the kind of thing I like to hear at four am," grumbled Lance. "Just because you never seem to sleep…"

"I work better at night. Do you want to hear something that really doesn't make any sense?"

"Not really."

"Leni Zauber, Creed's mother? Records say she died."

"So?"

"Eight months before he was born."

Lance frowned. "How does that work? I mean, are we talking some kind of incubator 'til after she gives birth?"

"Nope. I'm talking about the woman being found dead and being buried, then turning up in a hospital in the US and having the kid there."

"Oh great. You mean this Zauber ID's a fake?"

"Leni Zauber was a real woman, worked for the German secret police force as far as I can figure. Kurt's been helping me with some of the translations and I know the language well enough myself, but it's hard work tapping into a system that's telling me about a woman who's been dead over 30 years. I suspect that some one took on her personality after she died. The question is, who? And does it even matter?"

"So who brought Creed up?"

"Still checking. I'll sent Pietro over tomorrow with some video cameras – we might be able to catch this guy if he goes back to Jean's place. Logic says he won't, but he doesn't know we're on to him."

"We should set some up around the lab too."

"Yeah. You know, Jean insisting on staying there might be for the best after all. If we manage to catch this guy and he's responsible for this, he might be able to tell us about the others behind the attacks. We could bust the Friends of Humanity wide open."

"Wouldn't that be nice."

"In the meantime, watch your back. I'll call if I find anything else."

Lance dropped the phone onto his lap, still covered by the blanket, and scratched his bare chest with a yawn. "How much of that were you listening to Jean?"

The bedroom door creaked open and Jean peered out, looking a little ashamed. "Uh, most of it. How did you know?"

"I wasn't sure 'til you opened the door a little to hear better."

Jean walked into the room, a white robe over her nightclothes. Lance moved his legs off the sofa so she could sit down. "I was awake and I heard the phone ring. You think you might know who's after us?"

"We've got a possibility. Might be nothing."

"Right." Jean looked at him curiously. "Why did you join SHIELD? One moment you were all hanging around Bayville and the next the Brotherhood house was empty and no one knew where you were."

Lance shrugged. "After the whole Apocalypse thing, Nick Fury approached us one day. Said he could use us, if we wanted to do something with our lives instead of slob around. We were pretty sick of Bayville by then and since none of us actually managed to finish high school, or even get there in Wanda's case, we figured it'd be worth a shot. And then we found out we were pretty good at it. We're not like the X-Men, with a big cause to believe in. We just do the job in front of us, get paid and get on with it. Plus we get to get into fights and blow shit up. It's kinda fun."

"So how did Pyro get involved?"

"Just woke up one morning to find he moved into the Brotherhood house. Apparently Magneto told him he could. As long as we didn't let him answer the door, he was fine. Then we joined SHIELD and he's really good at anything fire related, he knows which kind of accelerants are the best and which might have been used depending on how it spread…am I boring you?"

Jean smiled. "No, not at all. I'm just trying to get used to the Brotherhood being a kind of police force I guess. Didn't Pyro go over to the church last night?"

"Yeah, but I guess he didn't find anything new or else Wanda would have said."

Jean nodded and decided to steer away from the subject. "You've all really changed since you went away."

Lance shrugged. "We got older, that's all. Everyone changes. You're not the same either y'know."

"Me?" Jean feigned outrage. "I'm just the same!"

"Nah. It might just be because things are rough for you right now, but you're not as, uh, self-righteous as you used to be. And you're out on your own instead of staying at the mansion and that'd be easier. Why not just be a full-time X-Man?"

"Honestly?" Jean frowned and thought about it. "I guess I needed to know I could live my life without being permanently protected by the others. Putting your life on the line wasn't the risk, being on my own was. I wanted to live my own life, for a while at least, try to spend some time finding out if being an X-Man was what I wanted."

"Is it?"

"I'm always there if the X-Men need me – but they _don't_ really need me, not at the moment. And I got my degree for a reason. I want to help people if I can, and that doesn't always mean using my powers. Pow-R-8 for example. If I can help find a way to neutralise the effects, I'm helping make human-mutant relations better. Mutants would be less afraid of humans if they didn't think they'd be hurt for revealing themselves."

"Don't you miss them?"

"Yeah, sure. Going to the gym before work is hardly a Danger Room session. The Professor was like a father to me, and although I can get in touch with him with a thought, it's not the same. Sometimes it seems very quiet around here, especially in the evenings. As weird as it sounds, I miss Rogue. We actually got friendly and it only took about two years of bickering. Watching Remy trying to charm her and her pretending she wasn't interested was always funny."

"What about Scott?" Lance spoke a little too quickly and tried to hide his embarrassment behind a look of disinterest.

"Scott?" Jean frowned. "Scott and I were really close, but we were too…I don't know, we didn't seem to have much to talk about outside the X-Men. If we went out on a date, the conversation always went back to the missions or the training or the recruits. And Scott always takes too much on himself, takes every failure personally. He forgot how to just enjoy life. Then when Emma turned up…she took one look at Scott and decided she wanted him. She's always gotten everything she wanted and I considered fighting her just to teach her a lesson, but I figured if that was the only reason I wanted to stay with him, it wasn't fair on any of us. So we split. Him and Emma were the excuse, but not the reason. Most people think I don't want to stay at the mansion because of her, I think even Emma thinks it, but it's not true. I'm not gonna say it's not uncomfortable, but I could live with it if I wanted. I just don't want to rely on the X-Men for the rest of my life. I'd like to at least try to make my own way in the world."

"Everyone has to try being by themselves for a while," said Lance.

"The Brotherhood stuck together," pointed out Jean.

"I guess, but we all fended for ourselves before we were anything to do with the Brotherhood. In a way, we do rely on each other but we all know we could cope on our own because we did it before."

"True." Jean snuck a look at Lance's bare chest. "Do you really think I might be a target?"

"I don't know. I hope not. People have formed little hate clubs since the beginning of time. Trouble is, they might get the support because people are frightened of mutants and the powers we have. And you can't tell mutants by the way they look all the time. People are afraid."

"I always thought that mutants and humans could live together in peace," said Jean. "I just didn't think it would be so hard. I guess I thought if we helped a few people, we'd be accepted."

"Not that easy. One mutant loses control of their powers; the whole nation decides we're a threat. And that's without the ones who deliberately cause trouble. Yes, like the Brotherhood before you say it."

"I wasn't going to…" Jean trailed off, knowing she'd been thinking it. "Look, I've got a key to the lab. I know it's early but I can't sleep and I know it'd be easier for you if there were no one else around when you check the security. And I've missed a lot of research over the last few days. Would you mind if we went to the lab now?"

_And that way you might put your shirt on and I'd feel a lot more comfortable… _

"You're dedicated." Lance ran a hand through his hair and stood up, ditching the blanket and causing Jean to look away hastily. "I'll grab a shower and be ready to go in ten. You mind?"

"Uh, no, no, uh, no." Jean cursed herself silently as Lance made his way to the bathroom. The sight of a semi-naked man in her apartment making her turn into a drooling nympho was not a side effect she had foreseen when she agreed to let him stay.

88888888888

The other scientists at the lab drifted in between eight and nine, all of them giving Lance a curious look as he glared at them menacingly. Every time Jean chided him telepathically and every time Lance promised to be nice but never was. The people she worked with all asked if she was alright after being involved in an explosion and Jean insisted she was, showing the burns on her left hand as proof that it could have been much worse. They were beginning to heal, but the skin was shiny and stretched there.

Dr Schwartz, a single woman with a degree in biochemistry and only two topics of conversation – germs and sex – gave Lance an appraising look. "Is he your bodyguard? You have got to give me the name of the company he works for!"

"He's Government issue, sorry." Jean checked that Lance wasn't in the way as she spoke to her colleague. He was busy installing cameras, occasionally removing his mobile phone and giving it an evil look. Smiling to herself as she saw the other woman's disappointed look, she busied herself mixing a compound that she hoped would work better against Pow-R-8 than the other attempts had…

"Dr Grey! Hey Jean, you've gotta see this!"

Jean turned and glanced at Dr Johnson, a nervous-looking blonde man with thick glasses. From the corner of her eye, she could see Lance taking notice of the exchange.

"What's wrong Andy?"

"The samples I've been looking at are of non-mutant blood, making sure that there are no antibodies made to counter the toxic eliminators."

"I know."

"Well, just look at this sample. If this is typical, we could be in big trouble."

Jean sighed inwardly. Andy was the kind of guy who thought he'd be in big trouble if he forgot to pay his paper bill on time. Outwardly she forced a look of concern and walked over to his workstation, putting her eye to the microscope.

Her gasp of alarm brought Lance to her side in moments. "What's wrong?"

"This sample!" Jean straightened up and gazed at Lance. "We've been working with the theory that toxic eliminators don't affect non-mutant genes, right?"

"Assume I agree," said Lance. "So what?"

"This sample has been exposed to Pow-R-8 twice a day for the last week – is that right Andy?"

"Right." Andy shot Lance a dirty look.

"The blood sample suddenly began allowing no resistance to the toxic eliminators. It began behaving like mutant blood. A prolonged exposure to Pow-R-8 brings about sudden cellular reaction in non-mutant plasma similar to the one a mutant would have immediately."

Lance had an idea what she was talking about and didn't like it one bit. "In English?"

"Pow-R-8 is toxic to everyone. In non-mutants the so-called toxic eliminators build up and poison the system rather than affecting them straight away, but it will eventually poison them."

"How long has Pow-R-8 been available in Bayville?"

"Almost three weeks now – oh no, everyone's drinking it to prove they're not mutants! We've got to get it taken off the shelves at once!"

"I'm on it."

Lance pulled out the mobile phone and dialled. It was picked up after the second ring. "Fury."

"Lance Alvers. I'm at Dr Jean Grey's lab. She's just found evidence that Pow-R-8 is poisonous to humans as well. We need to withdraw it from sale, now."

"I'll take care of it." Fury hung up the phone without ceremony and Lance called Pietro.

"Anything new?" asked Pietro as soon as he answered.

"You could say that. Jean just found evidence that Pow-R-8 poisons normal humans too; it just takes a little longer. Fury's working on it but it'd be faster if you took care of it."

"I can do a spot of shoplifting."

"Think you can get all the cans in Bayville?"

"Hell no. Most of the shops I can manage, but the vending machines and cafes would be impossible even or me. But I can get most of them. How long before we start getting humans dropping dead?"

"I've no idea. The sample took a week or so, but this shit's been on sale longer than that and there's been no cases like this reported."

"I'll get Wanda to hack into hospital records anyway, see if there's any unexplained illnesses. This is just what we needed. Without this, it'd take months to get Pow-R-8 withdrawn from sale."

Lance shoved the phone in his back pocket. "I've sorted it out for the moment, but we're gonna need some conclusive proof. Hope you can come up with it."

"With this sample, that'll be no problem." Jean grinned at Lance. "We did it! We got Pow-R-8 withdrawn!"

"It might take a while to purge the town totally, not to mention all the other places where it's still sold."

"And we'll still be working on the antidote. But this is great news. Wait 'til Mayor Kelly finds out! This'll put a blight on his career."

"Yeah," said Lance thoughtfully. He anticipated a few problems when news of this leaked out.

Jean's good mood was dampened slightly when she realised Lance wasn't more excited, but forced the feeling away. With Pow-R-8 officially a toxic substance, there was one less threat for the mutant population to worry about.

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Jean left the lab early, feeling exhilarated. Finally Pow-R-8 would be taken off the shelves and another threat to mutants was eradicated. And she'd played a part in that. She could think of nothing that would wipe the smile off her face.

"We've got to make a stop at the Institute," announced Lance from beside her.

"Why?"

"I need to speak to the others."

"OK. I'd like to tell the instructors the news anyway." Jean grinned even wider and spun around on the spot. Lance smiled at her exuberance, thinking how different this Jean was from his memories of her. She was almost giddy with her discovery and he spent a moment admiring the way she looked as she struggled not to skip toward the rental car. Only a few inches shorter than him, her red hair had been tied back for her work but a few long tendrils had escaped, her businesslike clothes showing off her dynamite body almost as much as the uniform she used to wear…

O-_kay_. Definitely too long between faceless flings. Just as soon as he got away from Bayville he was going to have to find some girl to have a short-term thing with before the next mission. Eyeballing Jean Grey was just too weird.

Lance checked over the car before he let Jean get anywhere near it, wishing he had Pietro's mutation so he could finish before some zealot blew him to pieces. But the car was clean and he was planning to switch it before the next day. He climbed into the drivers seat and glanced over to Jean, who was still beaming happily, absently rubbing the patch of burnt skin on the back of her left hand.

_If anyone deserves a bit of good news, it's her. _

Lance headed off to the Institute, hoping to get some good news of his own. Like they'd discovered who was behind the attacks on mutants and he could get the hell out of town and back to his real life and away from the shadows of his youth.

And away from Jean and his conflicting feelings about her.


	7. Caught On Camera

Thanks to:

Oceanbang – The Pow-R-8 discovery's gonna cause them some problems too, but Jean and Lance will continue checking each other out (I'm getting quite fond of this pairing!)

Furygrrl – Jean is so lucky, semi-naked Lance running around her place ::goes into X-rated dream world:: Hope this latest instalment gets you squeeing too!

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the good characters.

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Jean was out of the car as soon as it stopped, running up the steps to the Institute and bumping into Kurt as he 'ported into her way. She gave him a big hug and Lance had the sudden novel sensation of being jealous of Nightcrawler.

"What was that for?" asked Kurt, laughing.

"We did it! We got Pow-R-8 banned!"

"Well done fraulein!" Kurt returned the hug briefly, then glanced over to where Lance was slamming the car door shut, giving the pair evil looks. "And how's, uh, everything else going?"

"Great!" replied Jean, a little too quickly. "Lance and the others are following up some leads on the guys who attacked the church and the café."

"I know," said Kurt. "I got the third degree about it already."

"So where are they?" asked Lance as he joined them.

"Control room," said Kurt. "I'll show you the way."

"No problem, I remember." Lance brushed past him and into the mansion, leaving Kurt staring after him.

"He hasn't changed much," said Kurt.

"You'd be surprised," said Jean. "He's not the same person he used to be. He's quite sweet."

"Sweet?" Kurt raised an eyebrow. "Jean, you're not…"

"I have to go tell the Professor!" said Jean before Kurt could finish. "I'll see you later."

She hurried into the building, leaving Kurt on the steps brooding over his suspicions. He just hoped for Jean's sake that she wasn't planning on doing anything reckless.

Lance went down to the control room; ignoring the curious looks the new students gave him as he passed. Pietro and Wanda were still working on the computer, Fred and Todd were studying a pile of papers and St John was sat in the corner, idly flicking a lighter.

"What's new?"

Wanda turned to look at him. "Graydon Creed was brought up in a series of boarding schools. Fees were paid by an Irene Adler."

"Destiny?"

"Yeah. Who do we know who could take on the identity of a dead woman without anyone realising?"

"Oh shit."

"There's no way him being here is a coincidence."

"Agreed, but why is he after Jean?"

"I don't know." Wanda turned back to the computer screen in disgust.

"If you're thirsty, there's about twenty gallons of Pow-R-8 stored over there," said Pietro.

"You're so funny." Lance crossed his arms and leaned against the wall. "Any backlash from that yet?"

"The first news report about it was on a few minutes ago." Pietro hit a button so that Lance could see the footage.

The reporter was a woman in her mid-thirties with blonde hair pulled back from her head so tightly it pulled her skin taught. "This just in; the controversial Pow-R-8 drink has been withdrawn from sale after a research company in Bayville discovered that the toxic eliminators that allegedly caused adverse reactions in mutants reacted in a similar way in non-mutants. The reaction in normal humans is slower, apparently caused by a build-up in the bloodstream. We'll have more on this as soon as more information becomes available."

"How long before they link the discovery with Jean?" asked Lance.

"Not long," replied Wanda. "And you can bet her whole history with the X-Men and her role with the company will be all over the news. And just her if we're lucky. Angel's father pays for the research and if that becomes public knowledge, some one's bound to accuse her of doctoring the results of the tests to suit the mutant agenda."

"Or worse. I installed the cameras in the lab today, can you pull up a visual on them?"

"No problem!" Pietro changed the screen picture to show the lab. Only a few of the scientists remained, most having left early to celebrate their findings. Once their results had been double checked and the samples sent to the relevant authorities, there had been little reason for them not to. There had been plans made to meet up that evening in a local bar, which Jean had promised to attend in spite of Lance's pointed look that suggested she should decline.

As they watched the screen, Dr Schwartz hung up her lab jacket and grabbed her coat from the rack, waving goodbye to Dr Johnson and another man who Lance remembered was Dr King. There seemed to be nothing out of order.

"I've got a feeling that if the Friends of Humanity want to do something about the samples, they might just be reckless enough to attack the lab," said Lance. "I'm gonna ask Worthington to close down the lab for a couple of days, if it's possible, or at least relocate the staff. If the location makes it onto the news, it's an obvious target."

"And we might be able to get some of them on tape," said Todd happily. "Suits me fine. This town gives me the creeps. Sooner we're gone, the better."

Lance didn't reply. He was beginning to wonder if he still wanted to leave Bayville as badly as he had.

The group spent another hour or so checking leads on the various Friends of Humanity members, but they were no closer to any answers at the end of their task then they were at the beginning. By the time they decided to call it quits, the news reports about Por-R-8 were rolling in. As Lance had predicted, Jean's role in the discovery were prominently shown in the footage, as well as her role in the Apocalypse situation and the Sentinel disaster.

"Check this out," said Wanda suddenly. "I'm getting movement from the lab."

Pietro shrugged. "So?"

"So, brain dead, the last scientist left a half hour ago."

Wanda punched up the pictures from the lab as the rest of the Brotherhood crowded around. They could all see the people file into the lab, their faces covered by balaclavas and bandanas.

"They think even if they get spotted, no one could get there in time," said Lance.

"They think wrong." Pietro grabbed his sister and prepared to leave.

"I'll be there in two." Lance spied the intercom and used it to call for Nightcrawler. "The rest of you, take the car. Now!"

Kurt 'ported into the room as the other three hurried away. "Vas?"

"I need to get to the lab now." Lance grabbed Kurt's arm and waited to be teleported away. Kurt immediately removed them both to the outside of Jean's lab.

"Do you need anything else, Avalanche?"

"No," said Lance as he saw the white streak enter the building. "Wait, yes, Make sure Jean doesn't leave the Institute. She's not to come in a mile of here, understood?"

"Ja, but…" Kurt trailed off as Lance ran toward the building. Knowing that the cameras trained on the lab would still be working at the Institute, he teleported back to watch the progress from there. And if the X-Men were needed, they would be there.

"What's going on?" said Jean as soon as he arrived back in the control room, having been attracted there by Lance's request for Kurt.

"Something at the lab," replied Kurt. "How do we get the camera up?"

"Easy." Bobby Drake hurried into the room and hacked into the computer, bringing up the pictures of what was happening in the lab in a matter of seconds.

As various members of the X-Men arrived in the control room, they all leaned into the computer in order to better see what was going on.

There were at least ten figures that shouldn't be there, all of them trying to hide their facial features. It was obvious that they'd already been at work, smashing up workstations and using baseball bats to destroy the carefully labelled samples in the cabinets.

"Those assholes!" Jean gasped as she saw the wholesale destruction of her lab.

The camera showed what was apparently a streak of movement and suddenly Pietro and Wanda had the group cornered. As the X-Men watched, Wanda hexed two of the figures, who flew over the workstations and landed in a heap in a corner.

There was another movement in the doorway – Lance. He didn't slow for a moment, tackling the nearest figure and bringing him to the floor.

"And he never played football," said Emma admiringly, earning herself a black look from Scott.

Lance got back to his feet and grabbed a figure making its way to the door, throwing him against a wall. Wanda hexed two more and Pietro caught the remainder too quickly for them to realise what had hit them.

"They got 'em all," said Bobby excitedly.

Jean was the only one who saw the bottle trail into the room as Lance, Pietro and Wanda talked among themselves. It's end was alight, apparently a Molotov cocktail…

"Lance, LOOK OUT!"

The other X-Men turned to her, missing what happened next. The bottle exploded, the glass bursting outward – but the flames contained, dying down quickly. As they turned back to the screen, Pyro, Toad and Blob hurried into the room, Blob carrying a squirming man by the scruff of his neck. There was no sound on the camera, but the smug expression on St Johns face said it all.

"We should go out there and help them," she said.

"Forget it Red," replied Logan. "They don't want our help, and it's too late."

Jean nodded and focused her attention on the screen. They could all see the Brotherhood restrain the gang, Pietro using his mobile phone to call on the police force. They arrived in minutes, although they weren't clad in the garments that the Bayville police usually wore, suggesting a SHIELD strike force.

Toad looked up at the camera and gave it a cheesy thumbs-up, eliciting a cheer from the younger X-Men. Jean grinned. If the vandals were the same people behind the recent attacks, her problems were over.

And the Brotherhood would be leaving town.

Jean's smile faded as she realised she didn't want her life to go back to normal. She'd been rather enjoying having Lance around to look after her, and it didn't hurt that he was damn good to look at too.

Her phone rang and she scrambled for it. "Hello?"

"It's me." Lance's voice came over the line and she glanced up at the screen, seeing the vandals being led away and Lance stood by the window, looking out. "We bagged some guys at the lab. We're gonna see if they know anything about the attacks on Bayville. Stay at the Institute."

Jean bristled at the order. "In case you forgot, I arranged to meet the others for drinks."

"Cancel."

"No! I'm not putting my life on hold."

"But I should question these guys, see what they know. I can't do that and keep an eye on you too."

"You don't _need_ to keep an eye on me. I can look after myself. No one's going to come after me in a crowded bar."

"The café was pretty crowded too."

Jean sighed in exasperation. "Fine. I'll take some one with me."

On the screen, Lance was looking annoyed. "Can't you just stay at the mansion?"

"No."

"Hold on." Lance took the phone away from his ear and shouted over to Pietro. The pair exchanged words for a moment, then Lance spoke into the phone. "Fine. Pyro and Toad will be back at the Institute in a while. Wanda, Fred and Pietro are gonna question these guys and I'll be keeping an eye on you. This is a really bad idea Jean."

"You want to pass up a date with me to bully some thugs? Typical guy."

Lance glared at the camera, not amused by Jean's teasing. "I'll pick you up in twenty minutes. Can you at least stay at the Institute tonight?"

"Nope."

"That's just great." Lance cut off the call and shoved the phone back in his pocket, giving the camera a final scowl before leaving the room. Jean grinned at the screen, realising that most of the X-Men had left the room now that the action was finished. Kurt had remained and was giving her an odd look.

"What?"

"Are you sure you shouldn't stay here? I assume that's what Lance was calling about."

"I have plans. I don't want to go into hiding just because of some crazed anti-mutant protesters."

"But you're making yourself an easy target."

"Maybe those guys are the same ones behind the attacks, or maybe not. Either way, we had a victory today and I want to celebrate it like everyone else! Is that so bad?"

"No, but if you'd stay here it'd be easier for Lance to do his job and catch these guys. Father McCarthy was a good friend of mine, and he died because some one torched his church. I want them caught, before anyone else gets hurt."

Jean sighed. "I want them caught too, but I can't hide in the Institute either. Besides, if some one does something tonight then Lance can catch them and all this will be over."

"Assuming you don't get hurt."

"I won't! You can't talk me into staying here Kurt. I'm sorry, but I'm not going to hide."

Kitty phased through the wall and smiled at the pair. "Lance just got here. He looks really mad."

"Everyone's mad at me at the moment," muttered Jean, heading for the door. She said her goodbyes and met Lance at the car, where he was talking quietly to Todd and St John.

"Ready to go?" she asked with a bright smile.

"You get to have all the fun," muttered St John sulkily, surreptitiously checking out Jean's legs.

"Great fun," replied Lance. "Sitting with a bunch of scientists in a bar, talking about DNA and blood samples instead of getting answers out of those creeps."

"It'll be fun," said Jean, getting into the car. "Stop sulking!"

Lance growled and got in. Jean gave him a smile. "I want to go home and get changed first, maybe take a shower."

Now there was an image he hadn't needed. "Fine."

Jean fidgeted with her skirt. "Lance, I just wanted to say thanks for catching those guys at the lab. I guess we should have expected something like that."

"No problem," replied Lance casually. "But I shouldn't think they're the same guys behind the other attacks. It was too different."

"Figures," said Jean with a sigh. "Do you think they'll try again?"

"Oh yeah."

"Why do they hate us so much? Mutants I mean."

"Some people don't need a reason." _But maybe this Creed character has one _ thought Lance. He doubted that Sabretooth was father of the year material and Rogue had no idea who he was, meaning that he hadn't spent any time with Irene over the years. Perhaps he was feeling abandoned.

Jean gazed out of the window, watching the world go by and contemplating the scenery. Lance seemed determined not to have a good time and she knew he'd be tense, trying to check that none of the other customers were secretly trying to kill her – but she was nothing if not stubborn. She was going to make sure he loosened up that night.


	8. First Date

Thanks to Joriel, Fury and Ladyamalthea for the praise! And all the reminders of Lance in his boxers…whoa, must go have a cold shower now!

Disclaimer: Nothing is mine, still.

The bar hadn't been open when Lance left Bayville and he was surprised to find himself having quite a good time. In spite of the advanced degrees the scientists possessed, most of the talk was no more highbrow than he was used to. Families were discussed, stories about acquaintances exchanged and as the drinks flowed, a few ribald jokes had the group laughing.

It wasn't even hard for him to keep an eye on the exits. There was one way into the bar, one fire escape and a back door that Lance checked was locked, slipping the barman a twenty to make sure it stayed that way. The back door was behind the bar in plain sight though; even without the money it was unlikely that anyone could use it without the whole bar knowing about it. Aside from the scientists, there were only four other groups of people, three of them comprising of middle-aged couples and the fourth being six elderly women, who kept looking over at him and grinning toothlessly. There were three lone drinkers, none of whom appeared to be a threat.

"Look," said Dr Schwartz indicating to the TV above the bar, the volume down so that the patrons could hear the music. "You're on TV again Jean."

Jean turned her head around and smiled at the image of her teenaged self fighting a Sentinel. "They went back a few years to get that."

"That outfit's scandalous," said Dr Schwartz admiringly. "Can I borrow it?"

"You're a pervert," said Jean, taking a swig of her drink. "But sure, why not?"

"So Lance," said Andy. "Now you've caught those guys trashing the lab, I guess you're job here's finished."

"Depends if they're the same ones who attacked Jean," replied Lance. "I might have to be around for a while yet."

He tried not to smirk as he saw the look on Andy's face and at that moment his phone rang. "Excuse me." He rose, heading to a quiet corner where he could talk uninterrupted.

"What did you find?" he asked, keeping an eye on the table where the group was sat.

"Get ready to be disappointed," said Pietro grimly. "They're not our guys. Just run of the mill wannabes. All have alibis for the café attack, and most of them for the church attack. They're not involved with the Friends of Humanity. They just decided that the mutants were getting above themselves."

"I figured as much." Lance wasn't surprised by the news, but he was rather alarmed to find that the idea of staying in Bayville didn't upset him as much as it had done. Not even the idea of folding himself up on Jean's hideously uncomfortable couch for another night made him feel any differently.

"We turned them over to the Bayville police, let hem deal with it. I've got enough to cope with right now." Pietro sounded irritated. "Toad called. Magneto's back."

"Oh great." Lance watched as Jean got up and went to the bar. "Ask him if he knows anything about Creed, then make sure he's not there when I go to the mansion."

"If I had anything to do with it, he wouldn't be there when _I_ got to the mansion."

"Call me if you find out anything."

"No trouble at the bar?"

"Nothing. I know we weren't followed. Maybe we lucked out tonight."

"I'm glad one of us did." Pietro rang off and Lance put the phone away with a frown. They were no closer to finding the culprits than they had been when they first got to Bayville. The last thing he wanted was to look incompetent in front of the X-Men.

He went over to the bar to give Jean a hand carrying the drinks back over to the table. She smiled at him, handing him a tray. "Was that Pietro?"

"Yeah. Those weren't our guys."

Jean shrugged. "I should have known."

"Looks like you'll be putting up with me for a few more days."

Jean cast him a sidelong look. "You don't sound too bothered by it."

Lance shrugged. "Can't change things 'til we find these guys. It's only a matter of time, then I get out of this place."

"You really want to go that badly?"

"What's to stay for? Things haven't changed. Kelly's still determined to run mutants out of town, there are still mobs hanging around and random attacks and people who think we're all out to kill them. I don't know why you stay."

"My friends are here, my job. I don't want to leave Bayville."

"We'll find out who's behind the attacks on the café and the church and whoever blew up your car, but once they're out of the way, some one else will just take their place. And everyone knows about the Institute."

"It won't always be like this," replied Jean as they approached the table. "We can live in peace with humans, I know we can."

Lance frowned as she set the drinks on the table. He wished he shared her optimism, but he doubted that mutants would ever be truly accepted by the general population.

"We were just talking about going on to a club," said Dr Schwarz, chugging half her beer in one. "Up for it Jean?"

Lance was about to tell the others that there was no way Jean was going to a busy club and making his job even more difficult than it already was, when Andy turned to him with a sarcastic smirk. "Unless your _bodyguard_ doesn't think it's such a good idea."

"Sounds like a good idea to me," said Lance, knowing even as he said it that he'd let himself be baited. He suspected that the man harboured a crush on Jean but knew that he didn't stand a chance with her.

_And you think you do Alvers? That's a joke. _

"Seriously?" Jean looked a bit suspicious of his motives, but wasn't going to argue with this piece of good luck. "Well let's drink up and go!"

"If this club looks like trouble, we're not staying," said Lance quietly to Jean.

"Since when have you been such a worrier?"

"Since I don't get paid if you get blown up," said Lance, more harshly than he'd intended. He was beginning to feel as if she didn't take the threats to her life seriously.

Jean, who took the threat to her life plenty seriously, launched into a joke about a nun and a vicar, smiling to herself as Lance choked on a mouthful of beer when she got to the punch line. She'd always preferred direct action to hiding in the shadows and damned if she was going to change now.

The crowd left the bar and walked down the street toward the club, Lance checking out every shadowy corner and cursing himself for not insisting they went back to the apartment. He thought he'd left the one-upmanship that marked his teenage years behind, but something about Andy made him want to snarl. The man didn't resemble Scott Summers physically, but something about his attitude reminded Lance of his former nemesis, Jean's ex-boyfriend.

Jean grabbed his hand as soon as they walked into the busy nightspot, one that Lance remembered this time. "I feel like dancing, come on!"

"I, uh, don't dance," said Lance uncomfortably. He hadn't checked out the other patrons yet and he although he'd run a background check on all the people she worked with and they'd all come up clean, that didn't mean that he trusted them. He'd played bodyguard in worse situations – a charity bash involving a millionaires daughter had been the ultimate, a bold kidnap attempt in front of over 500 witnesses – but then he'd known what to expect thanks to a tip off and he'd had the rest of the Brotherhood to back him up. If anything happened here, he could expect Jean to try to get involved and Pietro and Wanda to be on the scene quickly only if he could get in touch with them, which was unlikely in the middle of a catastrophe.

"I've seen you," Jean reminded him. "The dance at Bayville High?"

"The monster mash?" Lance remembered it all right. Just as he thought he might get lucky with Kitty, a dimensional rift had opened between them and spewed out a big orange creature, all teeth and attitude. Talk about killing the mood. "That was when I was a kid."

"And now you're old and tired." Jean rolled her eyes and smiled. "One dance, grandpa. I'll go easy on you."

"There's something a girl's never said to me. Fine, one dance…"

"Jean?" Andy showed up suddenly and put his hand on her arm. Lance glared at it as though it were contaminated. "Can I have a word with you?"

"Sure," said Jean resignedly.

"Alone?"

Lance and Andy exchanged glares for a moment, before Jean let go of Lance's hand. "If it's that important."

Andy led Jean to a free table near the dance floor. Lance took the opportunity to check out the club, seeing no potential problems and noting that Dr Schwartz was already drunkenly dancing with a multi-tattooed man. He was probably lucky that Jean didn't try to drink that much – he'd have had to carry her home. Not that it was such an unappealing idea.

Jean grimaced as she realised how sticky with spilt drinks the table was. "What's did you want to talk to me about?"

Andy looked both serious and self-important, a sure sign that she wasn't going to like what he had to say. "I know that this Lance character wasn't some one you chose as your bodyguard yourself, so I took it on myself to check on his credentials."

"Look Andy, I don't need – "

"I know you don't, but just hear me out. I was concerned. He seems like such a thug. So I went on my computer when I got back to my apartment and found out what I could about him."

Jean was lost for words. She couldn't believe that a work colleague, a virtual stranger, had decided it was his right to pry into her private affairs and Lance's past.

"I was right," said Andy, a touch of smugness creeping into his voice. "Before he worked for the Government he was involved in any number of dubious activities. His parents were petty crooks, he was expelled from three different schools and the gang he was with, the Brotherhood, were thought to be behind a series of accidents in Bayville…"

"I already know all this!" Jean was beginning to lose her temper. "I know what the Brotherhood were accused of and I know they were expelled. I was there! I also know that Lance helped us out a lot of times, in spite of everything. And I don't think the company I keep is any of your business and nor is Lance's life. In future, just stay out of it!"

Jean stood up to leave, but Andy rose too and grabbed her arm. "He just disappeared! Him and his mutant buddies just vanished one day, there are no records of them at all after they left Bayville. You don't think that's suspicious?"

"No I don't, considering who they work for," said Jean, furious. "And as for his 'mutant buddies', don't you think that includes me too?"

Lance had noticed the altercation and hurried over to the table. "Is there a problem here, _Andy_?"

"There won't be once you're exposed for the fraud you are." Andy scowled at Lance, his hand still gripping Jean's arm.

Not breaking eye contact, Lance reached down and grabbed Andy's wrist, applying a nerve grip that Nick Fury himself had taught them. Andy immediately released Jean's arm, his face contorted in pain.

"I think you ought to leave now," said Jean, the words leaving her mouth accompanied by a mental imperative. Still rubbing his painful forearm, Andy turned and left the club without a backward glance.

"I didn't need you to help me," said Jean.

"I know."

Jean sighed. "But thanks anyway."

"It's what I'm here for," replied Lance. "What was his problem? And what was all that about me being a fraud?"

"He seems to think it's his business to check up on you and because he can't hack into your Government record, he thinks you're some kind of spy or something."

"He tried to hack into my records?" Lance began to look pissed off. "Lucky SHIELD cover their tracks well. But I might kill him anyway."

"Just let's forget about him. We can deal with it tomorrow. I'm here to celebrate after all."

"I think the doctor's doing enough celebrating for both of you," said Lance, pointing to where Dr Schwartz had made it onto a podium and was attempting to dance suggestively, managing instead to just look wasted.

"She's always like this," said Jean. "Forget it – she usually does by the morning. Are we gonna dance or what? I need some cheering up now."

Giving up, Lance let himself be dragged onto the dance floor. Jean soon managed to forget about Andy and his paranoid fantasies when she found out that he was actually pretty good. It was a half hour later when she decided that she was thirsty and suggested going over to the bar.

"Sure," said Lance amicably. He'd been enjoying himself too, without losing sight of the other patrons or the group they'd arrived with, most of whom were sat at the table vacated by Jean and Andy earlier in the night, the remaining few having already left. He considered asking if they wanted anything from the bar, then decided against it. They seemed to have forgotten that he and Jean were still there and he was happy to keep it that way.

He put a hand on the small of Jean's back to guide her through the crowd of people between them and their destination. Jean was conscious of its weight as she made her way through the multitude of partiers, enjoying the feel of his skin so close to hers…

At that moment, she gave up trying to deny her attraction to him. He'd changed over the years away, still resembling the boy he'd been but that memory not coming close to the man he was now.

Her problem was discovering if he was attracted to her too. He'd been nothing but courteous towards her, wholly professional about his protecting her and returning her mild flirtations with grumpiness. Yet the night before he'd seemed curious about her life and forthcoming about her own. Maybe there was something there after all.

She was going to find out.

As they stood at the bar, Lance took his hand off her back and ordered their drinks. She stood beside him, trying to decide how she was going to discover if the attraction was mutual. With Scott there had been subtle hints given to each other over time, each of them able to ensure they weren't going to make a fool of themselves before they made a move. With Lance, she had no idea how much time they had. They might have another week, or he might be gone in the morning, having found out who was behind the anti-mutant attacks. And he'd made it clear he wouldn't be back again.

On her other side, she was dimly aware of a couple having an argument of some kind, apparently about the man flirting with another girl. She was too caught up in her own thoughts to take to much notice, watching as Lance pocketed his change and wishing she could think of a way to find out how he felt without resorting to reading his mind, which she had swore she would never do without permission – then the girl gave her boyfriend a shove and he stumbled backward, knocking her rudely sideways. Lance caught her before she could get her own bearings, glaring at the man who hadn't even noticed what he had caused, so intent was he at attempting to reason with his girlfriend, who was trying to storm out of the club.

"It's way too crowded in here," he said, not relinquishing his hold on her waist.

"I have to agree." Jean was glad she hadn't picked up her drink and spilled it all over him. She glanced up at him, noting that he looked concerned about her, searching her face for a sign of distress…

Before she could think about what she was doing, she leaned closer to him and caught his mouth with hers.

For a second she thought he was going to back off. His hands left her waist and she moved her face away from his, already wondering how she was going to explain this one – then he caught her around the waist again with one arm, pulling her closer and claiming her mouth with an intensity she had never experienced before, his other hand pushing into the mane of red hair that cascaded down her back. She kissed him back breathlessly, her own arms wrapping around his neck, the crowd of people around them suddenly unimportant, melting into the background as though they were nothing more than ghosts.

They broke off the kiss, Jean breathing a little too heavily, Lance looking stunned but not letting her go. He took his hand out of her hair, brushing her lip with his thumb before leaning in to kiss her again, no less fiercely than the first. Jean matched it with a passion that was previously unknown to her, feeling heat spread across her body and knowing that she wanted nothing more than to keep kissing him, exploring the sensations he awoke within her…

Unwelcome reality descended with a crash as they separated again, the club seeming louder and more crowded than it had before. Jean had lost the urge to dance, wanting only to get Lance somewhere where they could continue what they had been doing.

"I think I'm ready to leave now."


	9. Date With Destiny

Thanks to enfant-terrible, Goofn1, Soulstress, LadyEvils and Sahara for the excellent reviews! And for Sahara, I have put up the Evo-over 18 address on my bio page at the end.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters contained herein.

Lance opened his eyes and looked at the ceiling, conscious of the weight of Jean's arm across his stomach and her breath against his neck. He had to admit the bed was a lot better than the tiny sofa, but he had the feeling he'd made a mistake. Sleeping with Jean had certainly been satisfying and he couldn't say that he regretted it, but it was going to make his job a lot harder if she felt the need to keep him out of danger and she wasn't going to be happy when he left town…

There was some one in the living room.

He heard the stealthy steps from the other side of the door and quickly disentangled himself from Jean, trying not to wake her up. He glanced around and cursed to himself as he realised he'd discarded his clothes by the front door and grabbed a towel, wrapping it around himself as he opened the door and peered into the room.

"What the hell are you two doing here?"

Pietro and Wanda looked around guiltily. "You weren't answering the phone," said Wanda. "We called about twenty times. We thought something happened."

"Looks to me like something _did_ happen," smirked Pietro. "Creeping out of Jean's bedroom in a towel? And the suspicious pile of clothes over there?"

Wanda sniggered as she saw Lance's look of embarrassment. "Looking after her in every sense of the word, huh?"

"Oh shut up." Lance went over to the door and rescued his pants. "You speak to Magneto?"

"Yeah," said Pietro. "Sabretooth knows about Creed, but he didn't talk about it much. Thought he was an embarrassment, not being a mutant. He's not sure they've ever even spoken."

"So we can't get any info about him from Sabretooth." Lance went to the sink and poured himself a glass of water. "Does he know who the mother is?"

"Suspicions were right. It's Mystique."

Lance shuddered at the thought. "We lived with her all that time and we never suspected. Do Kurt or Rogue know anything about it?"

"Not a thing. He seems to be Mystique's dirty little secret. They didn't know he even existed until now."

"And he shows up here, where his brother and sister live, the last place his parents were known to be. Coincidence?"

Wanda snorted. "I doubt it. Maybe he's out for revenge."

"Then why is he targeting Jean instead of Rogue or Kurt?"

"That's where the theory falls apart," said Pietro. "But since Destiny's the one who paid his school bills, maybe we can get something out of her. Up for a trip to Mississippi?"

"Sure," said Lance. "Today?"

"Yeah, if you can talk your new girlfriend into staying at the Institute while we're there. What is it with you and the X-girls anyway?"

"Shut up. Who's staying behind?"

"Blob and Toad. All the kids are restricted to the Institute at the moment, shouldn't be hard to keep an eye on them unless some one decides to get adventurous."

"Those blond kids are creepy," said Wanda. "Five identical telepaths, that's just weird. And they keep looking at me."

"The sooner we sort this mess out, the sooner we can get the hell away from this place," said Pietro. "What with the X-Men giving us the evil eye and Father being back, I'm more than ready to leave."

"Amen to that," added Wanda.

"Yeah," said Lance absently. Suddenly, leaving Bayville was no longer high on his list of priorities. "Let me just wake Jean up. I'll meet you back at the mansion."

"Should we give you an hour?" asked Wanda with a smirk.

"Make it two," sniggered Pietro.

"GO!" Lance ushered them to the door.

In the bedroom, Jean hurried back over to the bed, not wanting Lance to realise she'd been eavesdropping on the conversation. She'd known that he would have to leave sooner or later, that he hated being in Bayville again, but she'd been harbouring secret hopes about him changing his mind.

_Stupid… _

Lance walked into the room and grinned as he saw her sat up. "You have to go to the Institute today, I've got to make a trip to Mississippi. You mind?"

"I guess not." Jean stared at his chest, fascinated. She knew how strong he was from the night before, when he lifted her up effortlessly and she'd experienced what a good lover he was the night before. Maybe he did have to go and maybe he'd never come back, but right now he was in her room and she was going to make the most of it.

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"Are you Irene Adler?" Wanda took the lead, thinking that the woman might be more forthcoming if she heard a female voice.

"Yes Wanda, I am." Destiny wore dark glasses that hid her milky-pale eyes but didn't carry a cane, knowing the layout of her house too well to trip over the furniture.

The Brotherhood exchanged glances. "Did some one tell you we were coming?" asked Wanda.

Destiny laughed. "I can foresee the future. I knew you were coming to see me about Graydon. With your brother and two colleagues. One of whom used strawberry scented soap this morning."

Pietro caught his sister's suspicious look. "It wasn't me! Ask Lance, he was the one who took an hour and a half to show up to the Institute."

"Wow, she's worse than Logan," muttered Lance.

"When you lose one sense, the others compensate." Destiny smiled and stepped to one side. "Come in."

The four trooped into the house, noticing an abundance of photographs of Rogue about the place although Irene couldn't have appreciated them. There were no pictures of Graydon that they could see.

"You want to know why Raven kept Graydon a secret," said Irene as she settled into a chair.

"Uh, yeah," said Lance uncertainly, wondering how they were supposed to interrogate a woman who apparently already knew what they were going to ask.

"When she returned to America pregnant, she asked me what I could see in the child's future. You understand that she had no intention of becoming a mother, the boy was an unfortunate accident as a result of a mission she was on."

"We understand that," replied Wanda.

"I knew that he would never manifest any mutant powers and told her so. She was – angry."

"So why didn't she just get rid of it?" asked Pietro.

Destiny smiled. "You know so little about her, considering that you've lived under the same roof. Still, that was always Raven's way, never wanting to reveal too much about herself. You might as well ask why she didn't abort Kurt either. She doesn't believe in terminating pregnancies."

"Just waits until they're born." Lance scowled as he tried to digest the information. "I don't get it. She'd sell out her kids in a second if it benefited her and having a human kid was only ever going to cause her problems. So why take the risk?"

"She was still his mother," said Destiny sharply. "If the children were to get in her way, she'd do what was necessary – but that might never happen. The risk was hers to take."

"So you couldn't predict how Graydon would behave," said Wanda.

"I see pathways, probabilities. When it comes to the future, very little is set in stone. I realised that the boy could become resentful of mutants, but so much depended on how he was brought up and what happened in his life that I couldn't be certain. And of course, the attitudes of his parents toward him played a role. I warned Raven of that, but she's driven by her goals rather than her responsibilities. For a time I tried to be the boys surrogate mother but when we adopted Rogue there was no choice but to hide his presence from her and he couldn't be allowed to remain here."

"And no one mentioned that there used to be a boy living here?" asked St John.

"A few people did, but I told her that I'd fostered him before he returned to his parents. Remember she was only a child. I think she forgot about it."

"And Graydon was left in boarding school from then on," said Lance.

Irene shrugged. "Sometimes Raven or I managed to visit. When he left school, we gave him enough money to set up on his own."

"I don't blame the guy for being bitter," muttered Wanda.

"So why is he in Bayville?" asked St John.

"I knew he would go there," said Irene. "I wanted to warn Raven, but she's been incommunicado and I was unable. He's been with the Friends of Humanity since their formation shortly after the Sentinel incident, which I know you were a part of. His resentment of his mother and father is immense, but he would never be able to even speak to them unless one of them initiated it. Rogue and Kurt however are known to reside at the Xavier Institute. If Graydon is as resentful as I foresaw he could become, they are his best targets."

"Is that one of your visions?" said Pietro sarcastically.

"My visions are not always clear. I see Graydon plotting with others like him. They have something planned, something big. But there is too much that could alter their plans or change before they carry them out. I can't be more certain of what they are doing."

St John picked up a picture of Rogue and studied it. "Any idea where they're hiding or what exactly they're plotting?"

"I see fire…but that's all. And I sense that Graydon is in Bayville and he meets the other Friends of Humanity in a bar. Nothing else. Avalanche, you want to know why I think that he's going after members of his family and yet the Friends of Humanity seem to have targeted Dr Grey. Also you're curious as to why he hasn't been here when I'm an easier target."

"Uh…" Lance cursed the way she knew what he was about to ask. "No offence."

"None taken. Even if he came here, it's likely that I would foresee it and either call the police or leave. And as to why he seems to be targeting the doctor, she's high profile and the Friends of Humanity are not all about his personal vendettas. I imagine they would turn their backs on him if they knew of his parentage. So maybe the group is after the doctor, but Graydon isn't going to be satisfied with that."

"So you're telling us that the Friends of Humanity are after Jean but Graydon is after Rogue and Kurt?" Lance could feel a headache coming on. "Why didn't you tell either of them?"

"I've never spoken to Kurt and Rogue is still very wary when we speak. She blames me for not warning her about her mutation or telling her about Raven's plans for her future. She knows that my allegiance is with her mother but she doesn't understand it. As well as that, forewarned is not always forearmed. No one knows that better than me. If I were to tell them that their brother was chasing after them wanting revenge, Rogue would try to find him and Kurt would try to reason with him. They wouldn't think to contain the threat that he poses. Blame Xavier's tutelage for that."

"I don't suppose you want to tell us how we can get in touch with Mystique?" asked Pietro.

"If I knew, I would already have done so." Irene shrugged. "She's currently out of the country. That's all I know."

"If you have any visions about the Friends of Humanity, let us know." St John pulled out a card with his phone number on it, thought about handing it over and then realised just how little good it would do.

"Just tell me what your number is," said Destiny. "I'll put it in my organiser."

The formalities of exchanging numbers complete, the Brotherhood left the house and walked slowly back to the landing strip where they'd landed the helijet.

"That was just confusing," muttered Pyro.

"Not necessarily," replied Wanda. "We can check out the bars in Bayville, see if we can find any that the Friends of Humanity might meet at. And if Graydon is going after Rogue and Kurt, we can expect them to strike either at the Institute or when they leave. That means keeping an eye on the mansion and on the pair of them."

"I've just had a thought." Lance rubbed the back of his neck. "If Creed wants to get to his sibs, the best way to talk the Friends of Humanity into attacking the Institute is to wait until the security systems are deactivated. Then they can attack as a group and do some damage. It'd be high profile because everyone knows about the school and they could achieve their real objective."

Pyro looked blank. "Which is?"

"Duh," said Pietro. "These guys want all mutants wiped off the face of the planet. They want to drive the X-Men out of the mansion at least."

"So when would the Institute defences be deactivated?" Wanda paused outside the helijet.

"When people without security clearance are going in and out," replied Lance. "We're alright now we have clearance, they can't follow us in."

"They wouldn't want to," added Pietro. "They'd want to wait until they could get in with the minimum of resistance and as few of the senior X-Men around as possible. I'd say during the day when they're expecting visitors."

"So why don't we just set a trap for them?" asked Pyro. "They break in, we beat them up and arrest them, hand them over to the cops or SHIELD and get the hell out of Bayville."

"We can't set a trap when there's kids at the mansion," said Lance. "We'll just have to find another way to find them. Bar hopping might be our best bet…"

The ringing of his phone interrupted him. Retrieving it from his pocket, he noticed that Toad was calling and immediately knew that the news couldn't be good.

"What's up?"

"Protestors outside the mansion. A lot of them. Mayor Kelly went on record today saying that there were no cases of normal humans being poisoned by Pow-R-8 until Jean started investigating the side effects. He practically accused her of fixing the results of the tox-screenings. But there are six kids in the hospital with none-specific symptoms similar to food poisoning. Blood tested positive for Pow-R-8."

"Then Kelly has to eat his words." Lance smirked at the thought of their former Principal being humbled.

"Nope. He never crossed the line yo. Never accused her straight out. He did let slip that Worthington Industries funded the research. Stock took a nosedive. Angel is _screaming_."

"How did he find out?"

"You can find out anything if you know which computer to hack. And for the final piece of good news – guess who got outta jail today?"

Lance thought back to the many people the Brotherhood had put in jail since joining SHIELD. "Who?"

"Does the name Duncan Matthews ring a bell?"

"Oh no." Lance recalled Duncan from their days in high school and the brief alliance they'd had as a way to get Scott expelled. The plan had backfired massively. Duncan had also dated Jean Grey, something that Lance didn't need to be reminded of.

"He used to date – "

"I _know_ Toad. How did he get parole?"

"No parole. Lawyer argued that murder is uh, something like 'the illegal killing of a human being' and attempted murder is trying to kill a human being. But the Leech kid's a mutant…"

"He's still a human being!"

"Not according to the judge. The law doesn't cover mutant humans."

Lance clenched his fists angrily. "This is why I love being back in Bayville. It's such a haven for the minorities of the world."

"His mom brought him over to the mansion, they're staying a while until they know what Matthews is up to. This place is getting pretty crowded yo."

"We're on our way back. Call Fury; ask him if he can find Mystique or Sabretooth, not that I imagine it'll do us much good even if he can. And get a list of all the bars in Bayville."

"You taking _Jean_ out on the town?"

"Shut up. We think the Friends of Humanity meet at one of the bars. With the recent activity, could be they'll be meeting more often. If you can, find out which have an anti-mutant policy, or a pro-mutant policy for that matter. We can safely rule those out."

"On it." Toad rang off and Lance glanced at the others.

"The mansion's swarming with reporters and protesters and Duncan Matthews smart-ass lawyer just got him out of jail."

Pyro grimaced. "Sound like the perfect excuse to go out and get drunk."


	10. Drinks with the XMen

Thanks to Furygrrl for the review of the last chapters, glad you had fun ;) And now that 'Drowning' is nearly done, I can focus all my attention on this fic instead!

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters herein.

Jean knocked on the door. "Rogue, you in here?"

"Yeah, come on in."

Letting herself into Rogue's bedroom, Jean sat on the edge of the girl's bed and waited for her to look up from the magazine spread out on the dressing table.

"How's Lance liking sleeping on the couch?" asked Rogue, flipping the page.

"Uh, fine."

Rogue glanced over her shoulder. "He is sleeping on the couch, right?"

"Uh…"

"_Jean Grey_!" Rogue began to snigger. "I never knew you had it in you! And with Lance Alvers – does Scott know?"

"It's none of his business!"

"But it'll drive him crazy and that'll drive Emma crazy – oh please let me tell them! I'd love to see Emma lose that smug look."

"No!" said Jean sharply. "And don't tell Kitty either."

"I guess that would be too weird." Rogue fought her curiosity for a few seconds then gave up. "So, is he any good?"

"Rogue! I can't tell you that!" Jean tried to look stern. "But, uh, oh yes!"

Both girls laughed. "I can't believe you did that," said Rogue. "It's not like you to be into casual sex."

Jean stopped laughing. "Well, I had to try it sometime."

"It is just casual sex, right?"

"Of course!"

"Oh shit." Rogue shook her head. "You fell for him, didn't you? What about when he leaves?"

"I know, I know. I didn't exactly plan for this to happen. I just got…carried away."

"Just got 'carried away' huh? How many times did you get 'carried away' exactly?"

"Four."

"Woo-hoo! Go girl!"

Jean threw the pillow at her. "It's not funny!"

"Sorry. So what are you gonna do?"

"What can I do? I'll have to just enjoy it while it lasts and hope I don't get killed in the meantime. Then when whoever's behind the attacks is caught, the Brotherhood are history and I can get back to my normal life."

"Yeah. Your normal, boring, celibate life. That's just great. Why not keep in touch or something, meet up when he's between missions?"

"Long distance relationships never work. Besides, for all I know, he might do this on every mission he goes on."

"Nah, ah know Lance. He wasn't like that."

"I guess. He was always careful to keep his distance before…uh, forget I said that."

"You seduced him!" Rogue laughed delightedly. "You never fail to surprise me."

"Shut up!" Jean blushed. "Besides, with him off on glamorous missions with SHIELD and me being in Bayville, the centre of anti-mutant hysteria it'd never work. I should just keep things simple and not get emotionally involved."

"Isn't it too late for that?"

"Maybe. But I don't wanna pressure him or anything. I mean, we only got together last night. I should have realised I was getting too attached to him when I jumped on him in the nightclub."

"He could have backed off."

"Not the way I was coming on to him." Jean sighed and lay back on the bed. "Why does this have to happen to me? I finally meet a guy I like and he's Kitty's ex, a member of the Brotherhood and only in town to find out who's attacking mutants. The Brotherhood really want to get away from here. I heard them talking about it this morning."

"Ah don't blame them." Rogue went and sat beside Jean. "Look, you'll work something out. I bet Lance likes you just as much as you like him. No amount of SHIELD business is gonna keep him away from you for long if he wants to get back to you."

"And what if he doesn't want to get back to me?"

Rogue shrugged, no answer occurring.

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The reporter stood in front of a crowd of protesters outside what was recognisably the Xavier Institute. "The anti-mutant feeling in Bayville has been growing ever since it was discovered that the controversial Pow-R-8 drink was also toxic to humans. There have been many attacks places known to be sympathetic to mutants, including a church and a café. Seven people have been killed so far. The Xavier Institute was revealed to be a haven to mutants during the initial exposure of mutants to the public, when members of the Institute as well as the now-abandoned Brotherhood Boarding House were witnessed battling a giant Sentinel robot."

"Any ideas how we get back in the mansion?" asked Pietro. "And Pyro, we're not going for the fire diversion no matter how much you beg."

"We could radio ahead and ask for some cloud cover," said Wanda. "But why bother? There's 'copters going in and out of here all the time."

"The media presence and protesters aren't gonna get bored and go home if they see helijets. They'll assume we're up to something." Lance glared at the computer screen, recognising footage from the long-ago Sentinel incident. Seeing himself as a teenager was not making him feel any better. Everyone on the screen, X-Men and Brotherhood alike, looked scared green.

"Good point." Pyro reached over to the comm.-link and flipped the switch. "SHIELD to the X-Men. Come in! Over."

"Oh God…" Wanda shook her head and looked skywards.

"What do you want?"

"Logan! Me old buddy!" Pyro waved as the grim face of Wolverine appeared on the computer.

Logan sighed. "What did I do to deserve this?"

"We'll be there in three," said Lance quickly. "We could do with something to disguise our landing from the reporters."

Looking behind him, Logan spoke to some one off screen. "'Ro! Think you can make it rain?"

The answer was unintelligible, but it made Logan grin in a way that disturbed them all. "You're covered."

"We're going out for a beer tonight," said Pyro conversationally. "Wanna come?"

"Pyro!" Wanda nudged him sharply. "That's official SHIELD business, you can't involve civilians!"

"Hey kid," growled Logan. "I was on missions before you were even born. Hell, before your father was born. If you're going to find these guys, I'm going with."

"But…"

"That _wasn't_ a suggestion."

The first drops of rain hit the helijet and a flash of lightning lit the sky. Lance glared at the screen. "Couldn't she just have done fog?"

"This way, they might all go home for the night." Logan went to turn off the link.

Pyro leaned closer to the screen. "I'm going to drink you under the table mate!"

"Yeah. That'll happen." Logan ended the conversation.

"No one's drinking anyone under the table." Lance steered the helijet onto the grounds of the mansion. "We're trying to find out if we can infiltrate the Friends of Humanity or at least find out where they hang out. We are _not_ partying!"

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"I want you to stay here," said Lance to Jean as they stood in the kitchen of the Xavier Institute. "I'll take you home when we get back."

Jean wanted to ask how long he'd be, tell him to be careful, but she didn't want to come across as a nag. Instead she just nodded.

"Don't worry, we'll be fine." Lance put his arm around her and kissed the top of her head, a surprisingly protective gesture. "I'll text you if we find anything that'll make us late."

"OK." Jean rested her head against his chest for a moment, and then leant up hurriedly as Rogue and Remy walked in.

"Not disturbing anything are we?" Rogue gave the couple a knowing look.

"No," replied Lance, not taking his arm from around her.

"Hear you're going for a drink," said Remy. "Mind if Gambit joins you?"

"This isn't a social occasion!" Lance looked exasperated.

Pyro wandered into the kitchen. "Gambit! You coming with us tonight?"

"No," said Lance.

"_Oui_," countered Remy.

"Come on Jean," said Rogue. "They'll be arguing all night about this. Let's go see what the others are doing."

"See you later!" Jean let Rogue drag her out of the room.

"I mean it Pyro," said Lance. "This is supposed to be a mission, not a reunion!"

"You say that this Graydon Creed is Rogue's brother and that he's with de Friends of Humanity?" Gambit looked congenial, but his red-on-black eyes were cold. "Dat means he got something personal against her. Remy gonna look out for her, no matter what you want."

"Just accept it bub." Logan stalked in, overhearing the whole speech. "The Cajun'll only go off on his own otherwise, mess us your whole plan."

"This is just great." Lance scowled at the wall, not happy with the situation.

Pyro clapped him on the back. "At least we know they can look after themselves."

"Saves us having to do it." Lance and Remy exchanged glares, neither of them having forgotten when Gambit had turned up at the Brotherhood house while working for Magneto.

"Who ya leaving here?" asked Logan.

"Pietro and Fred." Lance checked his watch and sighed. "Where the hell are the others?"

"Right here." Wanda strolled in, the ever-adoring Toad behind her. "You just need to hope that none of us get recognised."

"Let's get this over with." Lance decided he'd never dreaded a trip to a bar more than he was this one.

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The fourth bar they went into still had an ancient 'Kelly for President' poster over the optics and as Logan bought the drinks, the bartender grumbled to him about the trouble being caused by the mutant protesters. "This used to be a decent town, before they opened that school for freaks," he reminisced.

Refraining from disembowelling the guy, Logan replied with a surly grunt before weaving through the crowd to where the others were sat. He slammed the tray on the table, some of the drinks slopping over the glasses.

"Be careful!" Pyro grabbed his drink.

"Stop complaining." Logan took a seat and glanced around the bar. There were several people around that he recognised from the protest earlier that day and combined with the barman's obvious dislike of mutants, it seemed like the kind of place the Friends of Humanity would choose to meet. But he doubted it would be as easy as just finding a likely place.

"We need to throw a party at the mansion," said Pyro bluntly.

"No way," replied Logan.

"Anyway, we decided it was too dangerous," Wanda reminded him.

Logan began to look interested. "Dangerous how?"

"We thought that because the Institute is known to house mutants, if there was a time when it was unprotected and people with no security clearance had access to it, then the Friends of Humanity might break in and try something." Wanda took a swig of her drink. "But with the kids around, it's too risky."

"Unless the kids were off somewhere," mused Remy.

"Like a field trip," said Logan.

"And with the kids away, de adults can play!" Remy smirked. "And if some one should decide to crash de party, dat not be our fault."

"You're seriously considering this?" Lance couldn't believe the X-Men were actually thinking of going along with a plan thought up by Pyro of all people.

Logan leant back and lit a cigar. "If you don't think you can handle it…"

"We can handle it easily," snapped Lance. "Hell, we can handle it with the kids there if we need to. I just think that if we can track them down and get them at their meetings rather than let them into the mansion it'd be safer. We're supposed to be protecting you, remember?"

"Right kid," said Logan with a laugh. "Just keep telling yourself that."

"If we can pull this off, we could be out of Bayville _and_ we'd have more on them than just the possibility of them being behind the attacks," said Wanda. "Unless you'd rather hang around here for another month?"

Lance shot Wanda an evil look. The comment didn't seem to have aroused Logan's suspicions, but any others might and he didn't want to deal with an angry Logan.

Toad glanced at the door as it swung open and immediately ducked his head. "Oh _shit_!"

Lance followed his gaze and groaned. "Try to keep a low profile guys."

Duncan Matthews breezed into the bar, followed by a group of men they recognised as former cronies of his and an older man who had to be his father. They were laughing between themselves, apparently congratulating Duncan on his release from jail.

"Think he'll recognise us?" asked Toad nervously.

"He might," muttered Lance. "Me and you most likely, probably not Wanda. Did he ever meet you Logan?"

"Night he got arrested."

"And on TV," added Gambit. "But de Acolytes weren't on the TV. We'll go to de bar from now on."

"Shhhh!" said Logan. He scowled, trying to listen in on the conversation between Duncan and his friends. "It's no good. It's too crowded to make out much. But I'm sure I heard 'em mention the church that got torched."

Wanda looked over and took note of where they sat. "They're between us and the ladies room. I feel the sudden need to powder my nose."

"Try not to let them see you," said Lance.

Getting up, Wanda strolled casually over to the bathroom, dropping her purse beside the table Duncan was sat at. None of them seemed to notice her as she bend down to rescue it, slipping a bug under the table as she picked it up.

"Smooth," said Gambit admiringly.

A few minutes later Wanda reappeared at the table and took her seat, retrieving the listening device for the bug and setting it on the table. A quick glance around told her that there was little chance of being overheard and she turned it on.

"Does dat tiny t'ing record too?" asked Gambit, giving the device a dubious look.

"Yeah." Wanda wondered if having Gambit accompany them had been a good idea. Anyone who wore shades at night was suspicious and it wasn't like he could show off his real eye colour.

"…Goddamn genius," Duncan was saying. "Never thought he'd be able to get me off."

"The muties are getting too full of themselves," said some one else. "We've been doing what we can, but we have to be careful. They're powerful."

"I'd love to get back at those X-Men," muttered Duncan angrily. "It's their fault we got busted. That stupid bitch Jean Grey attacked me! And that Summers asshole too. That Spyke freak trashed my car and does anyone do anything about that?"

"That's what the Friends of Humanity are all about, evening the odds."

"Bingo," said Wanda quietly.

"I'm interested," said Duncan.

"They're planning something big."

Lance glanced over and realised the speaker was the older man he took to be the senior Matthews.

"Creed's gonna be in touch in the next few days, but he's very interested in meeting you," Mr Matthews continued, waving his drink around in his hand. "He's a touch paranoid about security, but then who wouldn't be with all the mutants running around this town? Insists on a different place each time and he only tells us about an hour before."

"So much for tracing their meetings," said Toad.

"Muties are running scared though, with the normal humans standing up for themselves," said Duncan. "Killing's too good for 'em. Did the Friends of Humanity drive the car through the café?"

"Yeah, that was pure genius."

"Got 'em!" Lance grinned; glad they finally had something good to tell Jean.

Another voice spoke. "Creed saw your mutie ex walk in about two minutes before he sent the car through the window."

"Shame she managed to survive," said Duncan brusquely.

Lance clenched his fists, angered by this casual condemnation of his girlfriend…no, the woman he was sleeping with. If he started thinking of her as his girlfriend, he was in trouble.

"We've got the evidence," said Wanda as the conversation on the other table turned to more mundane matters. "But these guys weren't involved. If we pick them up now, all we do is lose the advantage. And we haven't found out their next meeting place or even when it's going to be. I think we need to go to plan B."

"Agreed," said Lance, although he wasn't overjoyed about the party plan. Too many things could go wrong. "I say we go outside and wait for them to leave, follow them. See if we can ID a vehicle and maybe put a trace on it. But the longer we stay in here, the more risk of them noticing us."

"They're between us and the door," said Pyro. "How do we get past without them seeing us?"

"Is there a back door?" Wanda glanced behind her and saw a fire exit. "That's probably wired to an alarm."

"Diversion?" Toad sized up the distance between them and the exit. Duncan and his friends were close enough to the main doors to make it their easiest method of leaving.

"I'm on it." Wanda checked that no one was looking her way and concentrated on the overhead sprinkler system, which suddenly started spraying water all over the bar. Cries of alarm went up as people began jumping to their feet, some of them using coats and bags to protect themselves from the deluge.

When Duncan and his friends made for the door, the mutants made their move and went out of the fire door. Just as Wanda had predicted the alarm went off, but there were people behind them with the same idea and blocking them from view.

"There they go!" Lance spotted the group making toward a two-seat convertible, an older make SUV parked behind it. The people exiting the bar and the comparative shadows of the alleyway the fire escape led into made it less likely that they would be noticed. It also made it harder for them to make their next move.

"Why are they just hanging around yo?" Toad glared at the bars patrons hanging around in twos and threes, talking among themselves. "Can't they just find somewhere else to get drunk?"

Lance glared over at the group that Duncan was a part of, splitting up and getting into the vehicles. Duncan and his father got into the convertible, the others climbing into the SUV. "Wanda, can you give them some engine trouble?"

"Both cars at once might look a bit suspicious." Wanda smirked, gesturing at the SUV as the engine gunned – and the gear stick slipped, sending the car into the back of the convertible with a sound of breaking glass. Toad bounded up the side of the building, vanishing into the shadows. The group watched as the passengers in the two cars got out and surveyed the damage, mainly broken lights and small dents. Even knowing that Toad was lurking, they barely saw the movement of his tongue flashing down at the cars, a miniscule blob of slime attaching the tracking devices to the cars.

"If they meet up, we can find out when and where, maybe we won't have to risk opening the mansion up." Lance devoutly hoped they wouldn't. On the occasions they had been up against the enemy with the public around, the people watching were too afraid to do more than dive to the floor. Some froze where they stood, others tried to run, but to date none had tried to be a hero. With the X-Men around, he doubted that there would be any terrified spectators, but there would certainly be a lot of people fighting back. It would make it much more difficult to determine who was an enemy and who they were supposed to be protecting.

"If they take their cars," said Pyro.

The excitement over the fender-bender seemed to be over and the men got back into their respective vehicles. Toad landed beside Wanda and did a dance. "Did you see that? Am I good or what?"

"They're going," said Wanda as the cars drove away. "We gonna see where they're going?"

"I'm designated driver!" Pyro left the alley ahead of the others; walking quickly in the direction they'd left the car.

"We need to get to the car before he gets in the drivers seat," said Wanda. "He has no concept of 'low profile' once he gets behind the wheel."

Lance took out his phone and called Pietro as they walked down the street. "We've got tracers on a couple of cars. Can you get them on the computer?"

"Uh…yeah, they're on screen now. Heading north on thirty-fourth."

"Can you tell if they're heading to the Matthews place?"

"Let me see if I can get it up on screen – wait, they turned again, going west."

"West?" Lance did a quick calculation. "Oh shit, they're doubling back!"

"There's nowhere to duck into," said Toad nervously. "Think they'll notice us?"

"They probably left something at the bar," said Wanda. "Talk about bad luck. We might be able to get back to the car before they pass us…"

"We're not all Pietro," said Pyro, pulling a lighter out of his pocket. "If they decide to do something, we'll be ready."

"We're trying to keep a low profile," said Lance before turning his attention back to the phone. "Where are they now?"

"Turning back toward the bar. Tell me you're at the other end of the street."

"No, I've got visual on them." Lance saw the convertible and the SUV heading their way and hunched down, trying to make himself look more inconspicuous, putting the phone back into his pocket but not cutting off the call so that Pietro and Fred could monitor the situation. Gambit and Pyro strolled ahead, trying to block the view of the mutants that the occupants might recognise. Toad tried to blend into the shadows, Wanda trying to disguise her appearance by ducking her head and pulling her trench coat around her and Logan hanging at the back, part of him hoping that they would try something. The attacks around Bayville had got him riled and a fight was just what he needed.

Just as it seemed that the cars would continue on to the bar, there was a screech of brakes and the second crash of the night, this time louder than the one Wanda had caused. The mutants turned as Duncan leapt over the door of the car, glaring at them.

His father got out of the drivers side. "I'm telling you, I saw him out with the skunk-headed freak!"

"And you thought they wouldn't recognise you," said Pyro, grinning widely.

"Shut up," said Gambit, reaching into his pocket and taking out a deck of cards, shuffling them one-handed.

"That's Tolansky!" Duncan pointed at Toad as the occupants of the SUV began climbing out, sensing a situation. "Explains what happened to my wallet at least. And hey, if it isn't Lance Alvers. I thought you guys saw sense and left town."

Lance eyed the gang, several of them beginning to advance of them. "You _don't_ wanna do this."

"You're wrong," said Duncan with a smirk. "I've been waiting _years_ for this."

They looked too happy, thought Lance. There were equal umbers of humans and mutants and that certainly wasn't Duncan's style, the former quarterback preferred more favourable odds. There were no CCTV cameras around and therefore no footage for any 'mutant menace' propaganda they might have had in mind. All his instincts were screaming that something was wrong…

One of the men from the SUV threw a punch at Logan and the fight was on.


	11. Fights

Firstly, an apology. Fanfic decided my computer was too old and tired to let me log on. But I've managed to upgrade now, so I'm back! There are three new chapters all at once because I've still been posting on Evo-over 18 and that's where I'm up to. I promise more regualr updates in the future!

Thanks to Furygrrl, Jean 1703, outofivanhoe and Totally Obsessed47 for the reviews! Next chapter will see a few people finding out about the Jeance…

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Mobs were the same no matter where you went, reflected Lance as he knocked a man flying and caught the wrist of another before he could land a punch. They usually had the advantage of numbers, but they were just out to do as much damage as possible without worrying about the people on their side being hurt. They piled in without thinking of the consequences, without a plan. And they left themselves open to being beaten by their opponents simply because they had no plan further than attacking.

The Brotherhood had faced mobs before, as far back as high school when their powers were exposed to the world, the most frightening being during the riots in Bayville when Matthews had first been arrested simply because they had never been exposed to such widespread hostility before, not to the extent where they'd needed the police protection that had been provided for them that night. Lance had never worked out if it was to keep them safe from the mobs or the other way around.

But this mob had to be the worst organised ever. It was almost as if they wanted to be defeated. None of the mutants had to use their powers, their fighting ability being more than enough against the crowd…

_Oh shit. _

"It's all a PR stunt!" Lance ducked a blow and glanced over to where Logan and Remy were having far too much fun. "They want to tell people they were attacked by us!"

"Let's give 'em what they ask for then!" Pyro punched a guy in the beer gut, his hand vanishing almost to the elbow, the guy doubling over with the wind knocked out of him.

"No." Logan shoved one of his attackers over backwards. "The last thing Bayville needs is another reason to hate mutants."

Toad tripped Duncan and just about restrained himself from giving the man a kick in the face – he'd taken a lot of shit from the football team in high school. "You mean you want us to just back off? No way!"

"We're not backing off," said Lance determinedly, rolling his eyes back in his head. The ground began to shake and the mob paused, looking around worriedly.

"It's _him_ doing it!" Duncan managed to get to his knees and pointed to Lance. "Just stop him!"

"I don't think so." Pyro reached into his pocket and pulled out a lighter, a smirk spreading across his face as he flicked the wheel. The little flame that emerged grew into a flaming hand and reached out and grabbed at the mob. They stumbled backward and retreated, staggering across the unsteady ground and jumping into their vehicles.

"I don't think that convertible's gonna be going too far," said Wanda, sending a hex after the retreating car. "Not with the big hole that's growing in the exhaust pipe."

Lance gave her an irritated look. "Was that really necessary? We're trying to give them less ammunition."

"One of them pulled my hair and another ripped my coat. And _they_ attacked _us_. I don't see how they could work that to their advantage."

"This is Bayville," pointed out Logan. "This is where mutants were first exposed, where they have a school and where the mayor tries to legislate a registration programme every week. People are way too tense around here."

"You can bet they'll be all over the news tomorrow saying how we went after them because Duncan was freed from jail," added Lance. _And Jean's gonna be pissed about it._

Pyro glanced down at his lighter. "Let's go. I wasted all the gas with the hand."

Belatedly, Lance retrieved the phone from his pocket, the line still open. "You there Pietro?"

"Yeah," replied Pietro. "Your guys are heading back toward Matthews house according to the tracker. Tell Wanda she ought to be more careful where she aims her hexes. I thought she was gonna hit the bug."

"Wanda, your brother says be more careful where you aim your hexes."

"Tell him to screw off."

Lance grinned. "You hear that?"

"Yeah. My sister, the lady. You on your way back?"

"Yeah. I promised to take Jean home. Shut up."

"I didn't say anything!"

"You don't have to. We'll be back soon."

"Great. You get to go back to Jean's and we get stuck at the Institute looking through all these leads that just make things more confusing. Oh, and stop anyone leaving the mansion. You know, Fred caught three kids trying to sneak out tonight."

"He stopped them didn't he? Stop complaining." Lance cut off the call and put the phone away. "Let's go."

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Jean kept quiet during the ride home – Lance didn't seem very forthcoming and for the first time he hadn't even tried to talk her into staying at the Institute – but she was dying to know what had happened that evening. No one had been in a good mood on their return, except Pyro, and when Logan heard about the kids trying to sneak out he'd gone ballistic. McCoy had sent them to their rooms just to stop him from yelling at them further.

The elevator ride up was less eventful than the one the previous night and Lance remained broody throughout. When they got into the apartment he collapsed onto the tiny sofa and Jean decided that she'd had enough of guessing.

"So what happened?"

Lance looked guilty. "Nothing much."

Jean went over to the kitchen area and went into the fridge for a bottle of wine and a cold can of beer for Lance. She used her telekinesis to float it over to him and he caught it with one hand. "Didn't think you liked beer," he said, opening it and taking a long swallow.

"I don't," she said, grabbing a glass for herself. "I just keep a few cans in case of emergencies." She walked over to the couch and sat beside him. "So what happened?"

"This whole thing is just too confusing." Lance ran a hand through his hair. "I was hoping that we could trace the Friends of Humanity to a meeting and gather some evidence, maybe infiltrate the group although that could take time. But we managed to overhear some of them talking tonight and I don't think we'll be able to follow them to a meeting. And we blew our chance of infiltrating the group when Pyro was seen with us – he was the only one of us who might not be recognised. And by the time he got their trust they might have already hurt some one else."

"You'd have let Pyro go undercover?"

"He can keep his powers under wraps when he needs to and that psychotic streak appeals to certain types of radical. But it's too late now."

Jean took a sip of her wine. "So what now?"

"Only thing left is a trap." Lance glared moodily at his beer. "But I don't like the idea. There's nowhere around here that's likely unless we open up the mansion and there's too many kids around with powers. The last thing we need is for anyone to be a hero and they all want the chance to be an X-Man. They might see an attack as a way to get that and something could go wrong."

"Would the Professor even agree to that?"

"Logan seemed to think he could talk him into it, maybe get the kids out of the way. But there's still the X-Men to think about."

"We can take care of ourselves!"

"I thought you weren't an X-Man anymore."

Jean smiled slightly. "I guess it's hard to think of myself any other way. Just because I'm not an active member doesn't mean I'm not an X-Man." She drained her glass and set it down beside her. "Besides, I was kinda thinking about – well, I might go back to the Institute."

Lance gave her an incredulous look. "Go back to the X-Men?"

"Sure. What's wrong with that?" Jean leant over to refill her glass so that Lance couldn't see her defensive expression. She hadn't meant to say anything, but the idea had been in her mind all day. Her life compared to Lance's seemed so ordinary.

"It just seems sudden. A few days ago you didn't want to stay at the mansion at all and now you wanna go back there to live? Give up your job and the independence you were so fired up about?"

"In case you haven't noticed, the lab's closed down because some one trashed it. All the attacks have put mutants in the news again and that means me, whether I like it or not, not to mention the Pow-R-8 discovery that's got my name all over it."

"All that'll blow over."

"When? Tomorrow? Next week? Next year?"

Lance put an arm around her and let her lean against him. "When we get these guys, they won't be able to do anything else and people are gonna forget. You can get back to your normal life again."

"When you catch them, you'll…" Jean let the thought trail off. "I just don't feel like anything's going to be normal again. Maybe I should put my powers to some use instead of hiding away in a lab."

"You're not hiding," said Lance. "What you're doing is just as important as what the X-Men do. Maybe more important. Being able to use your powers to help people is great, but it takes more than a few fights to change the public opinion. If anything, watching them in action makes them more afraid. But being able to change lives for the better, that takes more than spandex."

Jean laughed. "I guess those outfits are a bit revealing."

"Scandalous," agreed Lance gravely. "I should be talking you into going back to the X-Men just to see you in it again."

"Well, I keep it in the closet just in case."

"Really?" Lance raised an eyebrow. "In that case, why are you still wearing that skirt?"

"I'll just go and get it…" Jean stood up and Lance grabbed her around the waist, pulling her back down onto his knee.

"Actually, forget the outfit and just lose the skirt." He put his hand on her knee and pushed the skirt up her thighs. Jean tipped her head back, giving him easier access to her mouth. The pair kissed heatedly, Lance continuing his exploration beneath the fabric of her skirt…

The phone rang.

Muttering something unrepeatable, Lance waited for Jean to climb off him and grabbed the stupid device, wondering if SHIELD would notice if the damn thing met an industrial accident involving the apartment window, the cement 24 stories below and all the force he could muster. He glared at the screen that showed who was calling before answering, not noticing Jean's expression.

"Christ Toad, what do you want?"

"Interrupting something am I?"

"Just tell me what you want and piss off."

"Touchy. The kids are going on a field trip in the morning. Four days."

"That was quick."

"The X-Men want this cleared up as much as we do. You remember the party they threw up there when we were in high school?"

"I don't remember being invited."

"We weren't. But when all the adults were out of the way, they had a big party. Invited everyone in school."

"Except us losers apparently. So what?"

"The plan is, all the instructors are making like they're going away and the X-Men are gonna have a party. Lure the Friends of Humanity up there while they think they're defenceless."

"They're not kids anymore." Lance glanced up and noticed that Jean was pouring herself another glass of wine. He had the suspicion she was pissed off.

"So? They might still have a party if the instructors were away."

"I've got a really bad feeling about this."

"What are you, a precognitive?"

"Since when did you even know what that meant?"

"You're funny. Come on, how hard could it be yo? We go to this party, wait for the bad guys to show up, kick their asses and get the hell away from Bayville. Besides, Wanda might wear that red dress from the Ambassadors dance."

"She'd better not, after the last time. How long did you spend in a cold shower? Two days or three?"

"You're a riot. Nothing's gonna go wrong. You worry too much."

"Maybe. I'll call tomorrow." Lance cut the call off and put an arm around Jean. "Sorry about that."

"Hey, it's you're job." Jean aimed for a light-hearted tone, but Lance knew it was false. "So, what's going on?"

"The Professor's arranging for the kids to be away for a few days. Looks like we're going to a party."

"You don't sound too pleased."

"I'm not." Lance frowned. "I don't like the idea. Too many things can go wrong. But it is the quickest way to find these guys."

"The quickest way. That's great." Jean bit her lip and forced herself to sound nonchalant. "At least you'll have people to watch your backs."

_That's what I'm worried about_ thought Lance, hoping she couldn't pick up the thought. Frightened people with mutant powers up against a mob wanting to hurt them. That was a recipe for disaster.

_And when it's all over, I can get back to my normal life and leave Bayville behind forever. _

He wasn't surprised to find that thought depressed him as well.


	12. Party!

Thanks to Evil Jubilee for reviewing! I'm glad you like the story.

Just to clarify:

_…This is telepathy…_

_This is thoughts _

"Lance!"

"Whuh?" Lance opened his eyes blearily and focused on a rolled-up newspaper that was about to be shoved up his nose.

"Why is Duncan in the paper?"

"Uh…" Lance took the paper off her and tried to focus on the lead story. Just as he'd suspected, Duncan and his cronies were making 'poor me' noises about the fight. According to them, they'd been followed away from a bar, their cars had been disabled and then they'd been attacked. They were trying to sound like they'd been outnumbered, but had given as good as they'd gotten.

"I can explain this."

"Really?" Jean had obviously been up a while, wearing workout clothes and her hair tied out of her face. "Because I'd like to know how you forgot to mention any of this to me!"

"It wasn't that important." Lance checked out the picture of Duncan, who didn't seem to have a scratch on him. "He got what he deserved."

"This is the last thing I need right now!" Jean paced the small area of the room not taken up by the bed. "I told you last night I wanted this whole thing to blow over and now the mutant-human conflict's back in the news again!"

"Hey, he started it." Lance threw the paper down onto the duvet. "They doubled back and came after us. It wasn't my fault."

"And Duncan being my ex never came into it I suppose?"

"I never laid a hand on Duncan! Just what are you accusing me of?"

Jean stopped pacing, not entirely sure why she was so upset. "I'm not accusing you of anything. It's just strange that you decided to go to that bar the same day he gets released from jail."

"We were trying to find out more about the guys attacking mutants, it was shitty luck that they walked in…" Lance glared at Jean, feeling defensive against the sudden attack. "Do you think I was gunning for Matthews? With some of your X-Men friends? What's wrong with you?"

"I…" Jean paused for a moment and Lance took the opportunity to jump out of the bed and stride toward the bathroom. She watched as he slammed the door behind him, the moody act ruined slightly by the toned and naked ass he revealed as he did so, then she sat on the end of the bed and sighed.

_Why the hell did I do that_?

She hadn't meant to accuse him of anything; she certainly hadn't meant to suggest that he'd deliberately gone after Duncan. But she'd been feeling on edge ever since the night before when Toad had called to tell them their plan to trap the Friends of Humanity was going ahead and she'd realised that Lance would be leaving Bayville as soon as they did. A couple of days at the most.

She didn't want him to go.

She'd known all along that he wouldn't stay but she'd tried not to dwell on it, to forget that they didn't have much time and just enjoy the moment. Realising that it was nearly over had robbed her of sleep and sent her out jogging without telling him – he'd go mad when he realised she'd snuck out without his say-so. Seeing Duncan on the front page of the paper had brought home the fact that Lance might leave, but he'd leave behind all the problems she had to face on a daily basis with just the deadliest one gone. She'd rather face something as dangerous as a terrorist group than the intangible hostilities of the population.

Hearing the shower running, she went into the living room and began to make coffee, grabbing her phone on impulse and dialling Rogue's number.

"Hey Jean. Heard the news?" Rogue sounded far too awake and amused for the early hour.

"What news? And since were you so chirpy in the morning?"

"Been up an hour or so, had a Danger Room session. Kicked ass in the no-power sim."

"And that's your news?"

"Hardly. The kids went away this morning. McCoy, Emma, Erik and Ororo took them to the rainforest and between you and me I don't think Magneto was too happy to be going with them. As soon as they're gone, the Professor has Kitty drive him down to the store in the limo – talk about visible – makes up some story about going to Scotland to visit his ex-wife and makes a big deal about telling the girl behind the counter. Said he's going today. Logan packs a bag and hits the road. Then Pietro takes the X-Jet out of here and he's still not back. The party Remy said the Brotherhood were thinking about, it's happening soon."

Jean gripped the phone so tightly her knuckles went white. "How soon do you think?"

"You mean Lance hasn't mentioned it?"

"Uh, no."

"You don't sound too happy today. Something wrong."

"I don't know. I picked a fight with Lance about what happened to Duncan last night."

"Oh. Ah heard about that."

"I'm glad you know about it, because Lance never once mentioned it to me."

"Maybe he knew you'd be pissed."

"I'd be less pissed if he'd told me they'd had some trouble."

"Maybe he thought you'd had enough of that lately."

Jean looked at the arm that still bore the scars of her ordeal in the café. "I don't like being kept in the dark about my own safety."

Rogue sounded sympathetic but stern. "This has nothing to do with him fighting with Duncan last night. You're pissed because he's leaving soon."

"I'm not happy about it, but that's got nothing to do with any of this."

"Yeah, right."

The sound of the shower ceased and Jean frowned. "Look, I'll call you later. But let me know if you hear anything."

"Ah will."

Jean dropped the phone onto the counter and added milk to the two coffees. She was determined to apologise to Lance for her outburst but when he walked in he was busy making his own calls.

"…A bit sudden?"

She noticed the frown on his face as he listened for a few moments and wondered if he was about to tell her something she didn't want to hear. Eventually he muttered something and shoved the phone into his pocket.

"I made coffee," said Jean.

"Hmm? Oh yeah." Lance wandered over and grabbed a cup, distracted.

Jean glanced down at the counter. "Look, I'm sorry about before. I'm just a little stressed out and I shouldn't have taken it out on you."

"I didn't go looking for Duncan," said Lance, snapping out of his trance. "He just showed up."

"I know." Jean glanced sideways at him. "What was the call about?"

"Plan's in motion. As far as the outside world knows, the instructors are all away and the younger kids are on a field trip, leaving the older X-Men alone in the mansion. They're gonna make it look like a party going on."

"Oh." Jean tried to think of something to say that wouldn't sound unhappy. "They're not asking people are they?"

"Apparently just a few people from outside the mansion. Wanda did mention a few names but I've never heard of most of them. Dani Moonstar went back to Dark Hollow this morning and she's coming back later. Somebody called, uh, Betsy?"

"Betsy!" Jean managed a smile. "I haven't seen her for ages."

"Logan's coming back, the New Recruits are making like party guests and the Professor never left. Pietro took the jet to make it look like he was leaving."

"So…when are they having this pretend party?"

"Tonight."

"Tonight!" Jean almost dropped her coffee. "That's a bit sudden, isn't it?"

"The sooner we get these guys caught, the sooner you're all safe."

"And you'll be able to get out of Bayville."

"Yeah." Lance wondered if he'd imagined the bitter note in her tone. "Just as soon as we finish the mission here. We've earned some time off." He was vaguely disappointed when Jean didn't pick up on this comment and suggest he spent some more time at her place. Maybe she thought of him as a temporary distraction, or perhaps she'd been missing the adrenalin rush of being in life-or-death situations and now he'd given her that rush back she was ready to go back to her everyday life.

_Forget about it_ he thought. _There was no way this was gonna last for long anyway. Enjoy it while it lasts – and try not to get too depressed when it's over._

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Lance decided that she'd done it on purpose.

The fact she'd decided to wear trousers told him that she was expecting to get more involved in any possible fighting than watching if she got the chance. But the combination of tight black leather and matching top was something he'd never imagined demure Jean Grey would ever have worn back in high school.

Jean caught his expression and laughed. "It's my old Bayville Sirens uniform. You like it?"

"Uh, yeah," replied Lance weakly. "It's very, uh, nice."

"Nice?" Jean grinned. "Tabby chose all the uniforms. I don't think the look she was going for was 'nice'."

"I remember that, she kept stealing my jeep." Lance smiled slightly at the memory. The few months after Asteroid M had blown up and before Mystique had returned had been the calmest and the least stressful he'd spent in Bayville and Tabby had been a big part of that. "But isn't this supposed to be a party? Turning up in full ninja-dominatrix dress might give things away."

"You've obviously never met Betsy," said Jean. "And if Emma were here, she'd probably be wearing two handkerchiefs and a prayer. Her uniform's _much_ more revealing than this."

"Yeah." Lance remembered that Emma was Scott's new girlfriend. Was Jean trying to remind her ex what he was missing while the other girl was away? "So let's go."

They went down to the car and set off after Lance had checked the safety of the vehicle, Jean sneaking glances at him ever few seconds. He looked particularly good tonight, his usual dress smartened up slightly to a shirt and his only pair of unripped jeans. She should be worried about her friends being used as a lure for a gang of terrorists, but the only thing she could think of was if everything went well, then Lance would be leaving, probably the very next day. She might never get to see him again, the sex they'd whiled the afternoon away with might be the final time he'd ever touch her in that way…

"We're here."

"What?" Jean jerked herself out of her reverie and realised they'd pulled up at the Institute. She hadn't even noticed the drive there.

Lance gave her a concerned look. "If you don't wanna be there tonight, you don't have to be. I can take you home, get Fury to request some cops outside your place."

"I want to be there," said Jean honestly. "I'd like to see you take them down and know that they can't hurt us anymore."

Shutting off the ignition, Lance turned to face her. "Look, there's no guarantee that this is gonna work. Just because we're staging a party doesn't mean they'll show up. We might stand around looking stupid all night waiting for them. And even if we do get them, we might not be able to talk them into giving up the ringleaders. Don't think that this is all gonna fall neatly into place."

"I know," said Jean, with mixed emotions at the news. It hadn't occurred to her that their plans might not be the end of the Friends of Humanity. "But I'd still feel better about being there."

"Let's go inside then." Lance got out of the car and glanced over to the mansion, every window lit up and loud music blasting from inside. "Hell, it looks like a party to me."

"I've got déjà vu," admitted Jean. "It's just like the last time I got back and found a party going on. I keep expecting Defcon 4 to start up!"

Before Lance could reply, a woman came out of the mansion and ran toward them. Jean grinned and hugged her fiercely.

"Thought you'd never get here," the woman said.

"Missed you too." Jean released her hold and the woman and turned. "Lance, this is Betsy Braddock."

Betsy raised an eyebrow and checked Lance out none too subtly. "I can see why you've been keeping him to yourself."

"Uh, hi," said Lance, a little taken aback. Betsy spoke with a British accent, something he'd always associated with sedate personalities who took tea in rose gardens. This girl however was the exact opposite of all that. She had long hair dyed purple and managed to wear even less than Jean.

"So come inside then!" Betsy grabbed Jean by the arm and dragged her toward the mansion, Lance trailing behind.

Inside, the atmosphere was almost festive in spite of the tension that came of waiting for something bad to happen. Betsy immediately spirited Jean off and Lance went over to where Pietro and Wanda were stood by the window, apparently talking idly but in actuality keeping an eye out.

"Did I miss anything?" Lance took a look out of the window himself, but saw nothing untoward.

"Nope." Pietro glanced over to where Jean and Betsy were chatting to Rogue and Kitty. "Man, that Betsy's hot. Imagine that accent talking dirty."

"You're disgusting." Wanda glared at her brother, who seemed unperturbed.

"Where are the others?" asked Lance.

"They're around somewhere. Xavier's keeping an eye on the security cameras – he says try not to do too much structural damage with the tremors. Logan's creeping around in the bushes. When they show up, we'll be ready for them."

"How can you be so sure they'll show?"

"Sure they will." Wanda gave a little smile. "That Xavier can be sneaky when he wants to. Kitty mentioned the party to a few people when they went out today and he gave them a mental command to mention it to as many people as possible. At worst we'll have a bunch of party-crashers to look out for while we kick their asses."

"We've got it easy this time," added Pietro. "We find out names, send some SHIELD agents over to nail them – we'll be out of Bayville in 24 hours if we do this right."

"Yeah," muttered Lance. "That's great."

"You're leaving tomorrow?"

Pietro turned and gave his trademark grin as he noticed Betsy behind him. "Afraid so. Why, you gonna miss me?"

Lance tuned out of the conversation and wandered off, too tense to let himself relax. He was always wound up in these types of situations, but he'd never been quite this worked up before. He'd already told Jean to stay away from the windows, but he wished he'd talked her into staying home. In spite of that, he felt better about her being there to watch his back than any of the other X-Men. He noticed Sam and Tabby entering the room, the last of the expected arrivals. Sam stopped to talk to Bobby while Tabby waved at Amara, bouncing over to the other girl and slipping an arm through hers. He wished they'd stood up to Mystique when she'd thrown Tabby out all those years ago. She'd been a good friend and deserved better.

"Hey Lance."

He didn't need to look around to know who that voice belonged to – Kitty, the girl he'd spend his teenage years thinking might just be the love of his life if he could stop screwing things up long enough for them to be together longer than a month or two.

"Hey Kitty." The years had been good to her he noticed. The Danger Room workouts had given her a toned figure and maturity had made her less scatty and more confident. She didn't seem compelled to hide her true personality away behind an air of dizzy good humour any longer. Rogue was with her, the Goth persona toned down but still evident in the way she dressed and the make-up she wore. "Hey Rogue."

"So Lance," said Rogue, moving straight in for the kill. "You must be glad to have this nearly over, stop sleeping on Jean's couch."

Lance shot her a dirty look. The words dripped with sarcasm although Kitty seemed to have missed the reason. Rogue obviously knew about him and Jean, but Kitty made no sign she shared the knowledge.

"I won't miss the couch," he said before realising it was a lie. They'd christened the couch the previous evening and he hadn't been able to look at it since without remembering.

Rogue looked at him through narrowed eyes but kept her voice congenial. "Think you'll ever some back to Bayville after all this is over?"

"I don't know," said Lance, more harshly than he'd intended.

"It must be totally weird to be back," said Kitty, falling into the old speech patterns she'd always used around him. "You've been gone so long and all."

"This place never changes," said Lance.

Jean looked over and felt her heart speed up as she noticed Lance speaking to his old flame. Was there anything still between them? As teenagers they'd been infatuated with one another but their philosophies on life had been just too different. Would that change now that they were on the same side?

She resisted the urge to probe their minds for answers to her questions. That would be intrusive of her and entering minds uninvited made her feel like the worst kind of voyeur. But it was harder at that moment than she'd ever found it in the past. It didn't help that Kitty had worn the black jeans and red shirt combination that Lance had always admired in high school.

Then she spotted Piotr nearby and felt ashamed of herself. Kitty was head over heels in love with the Russian and Jean was making a friendly conversation into a full-blown affair. She knew Kitty, trusted her. There was no way she'd do something like that…

_Except that she doesn't know about you and Lance because you were afraid to tell her. _

Jean sighed and grabbed herself a cranberry juice from the refreshment table, which she noticed was decidedly light on alcohol. She'd never thought of herself as the jealous type before, although she'd had her moments in the past. And why should she care even if they were still attracted to each other? Lance would be leaving the very next day if things went to plan and it would be none of her business whom he slept with after he'd left.

The psychic alert from the Professor was intended for the Brotherhood, but both Jean and Betsy picked up on it with their own telepathic abilities.

_…There's a car coming through the gates that I don't recognise…_

_…Is it Duncan's…_

Jean winced at the volume of the thought that Lance transmitted, he obviously wasn't used to communicating telepathically.

_…No the tracking device says that his car's still at the Matthews house…_

_…I can see it…_

That thought was Pietro's, just as loud as Lance's had been. It seemed as though they were transmitting as loudly as possible to make sure they were heard.

Jean made a mental scan of the outside of the Institute. There were three guys in the car, which didn't add up. Any raid on the mansion would need more than three people to carry it out.

There was a blur as Pietro received this information from the Professor and he went outside to see who it was. Lance moved over to the window to see what was going on and Jean could see Pyro and Wanda doing likewise. Fred kept an eye on the people in the room while Toad hopped out of a window at the other side of the room and vanished into the night, probably climbing onto the roof in case backup were needed. And Logan was also outside.

Jean waited anxiously, although it seemed that most of the X-Men hadn't even noticed that there was a problem. Glancing across the room, she noticed that Betsy was also tensed for a fight and was glad that Emma wasn't around. The blonde would probably transmit the happenings to the whole room or at least tell Scott, who would feel the need to attempt to take charge. Scott had noticed the activity from the Brotherhood she realised when she looked over at him, but he didn't know what.

She overheard a response from Logan, winced at another loud thought from Pietro and then heard the Professor's voice transmitting to all the Brotherhood.

_…All three have bottles of paraffin they apparently intend to light, can you deal with it…_

_…I CAN ME ME ME…_

"OUCH!"

"BLEEDIN' 'ELL!"

Jean and Betsy both cringed in pain at the loud thoughts from Pyro, gaining them some odd looks from the X-Men who had no idea of the psychic conversations. Before anyone could comment on their behaviour, three Molotov Cocktails broke through different windows.

There were a couple of cries of alarm at the sounds of shattering glass, but the flames didn't take because Pyro was already controlling all three blazes, letting them burn for a moment in order to properly rein them in – he was more used to using his powers against one large target rather than three smaller ones – before extinguishing them. The delay shouldn't have been a problem, the ultra-sensitive smoke alarms going off thanks to the fumes from the fires only to be expected. But the smoke detectors were wired directly into the sprinkler system, which the Professor hadn't yet managed to disable.

Jean was vaguely aware of liquid raining from the ceiling and had the chance to realise that the substance wasn't water; it was something sticky and dark…

Then a wave of dizziness hit her and all hell broke loose.


	13. Illness and Intruders

Disclaimer: I asked for the X-Men for my birthday, but instead I got soap.

Lance glanced up as he heard the telltale click of the sprinklers about to activate and instinctively put an arm over his head. There was no danger of him getting wet though; Wanda was standing close by and disabled the sprinkler system with a well-aimed hex. It was pure intuition on her part and one that probably stopped the pair of them getting in the same situation as the rest of the room.

The large room was equipped with six separate outlets for the sprinkler system and Wanda took out only one. The other five sprayed the rest of the room with liquid.

Scott, stood in the centre of the room, blasted one as the first drops hit his skin. The sprinkler exploded, the spray becoming a deluge as the pipe leaked into the room. A soaked Bobby shot at the stream and froze it solid, dropping to his knees as soon as he had done so.

"EVERYONE OUT!" bellowed Lance as he realised that there was something amiss with the water. He might have noticed seconds earlier if not for his immediate concern about how the three guys might be connected to the Friends of Humanity or if it was just another random hate crime.

A telekinetic bubble that Jean managed to form stopped the downpour temporarily – but one look at her told Lance she'd been hit by whatever the strange liquid was and seemed on the verge of collapse. Several of the mutants were already staggering, Bobby already on the ground and Amara taking some clumsy steps forward before sinking to the floor.

The Professor's voice sounded in his mind.

_…What's going on…_

_…Turn off the fucking water…_

Lance helped Amara to her feet, glancing over his shoulder at Jean. She seemed dazed and he could tell she was running off pure willpower. Much as he wanted to get her the hell out of there, he knew it would be easier to do so if everyone else was safe.

As the sprinklers shut off, a blur indicated Pietro had returned. He began helping Lance and Wanda to get the soaked mutants out of the room, much faster than they could have done without him.

"What the _fuck_ happened?" Pietro snapped as he half-carried Bobby out of the room and dumped him in the hallway, which was unaffected by the liquid thanks to the hi-tec system.

"There's something wrong with the water," said Wanda as she aided Tabby.

Lance let go of Amara and hurried back into the main room, noticing Fred leaning against a wall looking pale and knew he couldn't help him on his own – and that even if he could he wouldn't. Jean was still to one side of the room, swaying on her feet. He made it to her side just in time to catch her as she lost her balance, her head leaning against his shoulder, and carrying her out and to the relative safety of the hallway.

"Where's Pyro and Toad?" he asked urgently.

"Pyro's over here," said Wanda. "He looks like shit."

"Toad's with Logan, trying to get some answers out of the guys in front." Pietro glanced up as Fred lumbered over more slowly than usual. "Blob, sit down or something before you fall down."

"It's Pow-R-8."

Lance glanced down at Jean. "What? Are you sure?"

"Nothing else can affect us through skin contact like this." Jean closed her eyes and Lance set her down on the floor, cradling her head and trying to refrain himself from brushing her hair from her face. Getting the substance on his bare skin would be the stupidest thing he could do.

Betsy, who had been relatively close to the door and managed to duck out before getting too wet, straightened up and widened her eyes. "There are people heading our way!"

"How many?" Wanda asked.

The Professor spoke to them all telepathically.

_…There are a number of vehicles entering the grounds – I can see at least seven…_

Lance groped for his comm.-link, relieved they hadn't relied solely on the Professor to keep them in touch with each other. "Toad, what can you see?"

"It's a whole gang," replied Toad. "Seven cars, all full. These three are out for the count, but no way that the two of us can hold them all off."

"We're on it." Lance laid Jean down carefully, noting how the Pow-R-8 was drying in sticky trails down her skin.

_If she's not OK I'm quitting SHIELD and hunting down the bastards who did this. _

"Who's alright to fight?"

"Wait," said Pietro. "We agreed not to get the X-Men involved in any fighting!"

"We have to," replied Lance. "We can't afford to let these guys near the others. Anyone up to it?"

"Try and stop me," said Betsy grimly.

Kitty nodded, having phased when the water started more to protect her outfit than because she was worried about its chemical makeup. Piotr leant against the wall nearby, clearly having received a soaking. Gambit also seemed fine, although Rogue had taken a faceful of the stuff and was looking rather ill herself. The one person Lance would have thought would make a fast escape apparently had not, Kurt hadn't recognised the liquid as a threat and had waited to see what would happen. His fur was glued together in wild clumps but maybe because of the covering, he was still standing.

"Eight of us. Better than nothing." Lance checked Jean one last time before rising. "Kurt, you don't seem too badly affected. Keep an eye on the others. Fred, try to get in touch with Fury and find out what you can about the Pow-R-8 – there's no way some one can have infiltrated the mansion alone. The rest of you, let's go."

Pietro picked up Wanda and disappeared, Lance, Betsy and Gambit running down the corridor toward the main doors, Kitty phasing straight through the walls. Lance thought back to watching Jean in the lab, trying to understand what they were all working on. They never had found the antidote to the toxic eliminators, but he knew that it shouldn't have affected them as rapidly as he had done. Somehow, they'd been set up.

As they burst outside, the sight that greeted them was alarming. The cars had blocked any possible vehicular exit through the gates, skidding to stops just inside. The people travelling within them were both men and women, most of them armed. Some just had knives or pipes, but several had handguns or rifles. The fight had begun without them and for a second Lance was struck by the surrealism of Pietro, Wanda and Toad battling beside Logan and Kitty.

Logan had already sliced through the barrel of a rifle held by a heavyset man and was after another even as the man was staring down at his ruined gun in confusion. Toad shot a glob of slime at a man aiming at Wanda as she hexed a group by the gates, knocking him backwards with a cry of disgust before he could get a shot off. Pietro sped around the gang, swiping weapons before they could do any damage – he had to admit his father had a point about humans and their guns. They relied far too much on them. Kitty phased up through the ground, giving a few people the shock of their lives before they attacked her from all sides, the fact that she was intangible meaning they did more damage to each other. Betsy dived into the midst of the gang, felling people with kicks, her punches backed up by a psi-blade that concentrated all her telepathic powers and scrambled the brains of whomever it made contact with. Gambit fired cards off into the group, sending them running scared they exploded.

Lance held back for a moment, trying to telepathically contact the Professor.

_…There any way you can make give up quietly…_

_…I can try, but there are a lot of them…_

_(…If the ringleaders give up, the others'll be easier to catch, even if they run. And if you wanna give a few lobotomies, I won't tell…_

Lance rolled his eyes back in his head and set off an earth tremor that passed the mutants and knocked those at the edges of the affray off balance. It was his experience that the ringleaders tended to hang back and wait to see how the fight went before either joining in or running off. In spite of the trick with the Pow-R-8, he suspected they would still be hedging their bets and letting the more impulsive amongst them do the fighting.

"Wait!" A man near the gates raised his hand as he stumbled to the floor. "I – I give up!"

"Me too," agreed a woman nearby, trying to keep her feet.

Logan paused for a moment, an adamantium laced fist having just taken out one of the mob. "Is Chuck doing that?"

"Yeah." Lance realised he hadn't thought the plan out. "Where the hell are we supposed to keep the people who gave up?"

Betsy over heard and stopped fighting long enough to smirk at him over her shoulder. "Leave it to the telepaths."

By now, almost half the mob were begging to give themselves up. With an exaggerated motion, Betsy indicated them in the direction of the mansion, leading them inside.

"What the hell?" One of the men who hadn't given himself up backed up in the face of his friends handing themselves over and turned to run, followed by several of his cronies. The others stood their ground for a moment, then realised they were without weapons or backup and decided to flee too.

Pietro zipped up to Lance and gave an admiring look in the direction of Betsy, leading the strangely docile mob inside. "Can we keep her? This team could use a telepath."

"I think Lance wants some one else for the teams telepath," teased Wanda.

"Over my dead body," growled Logan as he walked past. Lance winced, knowing they'd just been found out.

Toad placed a commiserating hand on Lance's shoulder. "That's rough man. You know how hard he is to kill."

"Shut up Toad." Lance shook off the other mans hand and followed the crowd inside, ready in case either the Professor or Betsy lost their mental grip on the mob.

8888888888888

As soon as the uninfected mutants had run off, Rogue stumbled to her feet and began staggering down the hallway, her hand plastered over her mouth. Kurt glanced after her, debating whether or not to teleport her to the bathroom and leave the rest of the ill behind.

"I'll go after her," said Jean, struggling to her feet. "If she's going to puke, I might even join her."

"Be serious Jean, you can barely stand." Kurt held out an arm to steady the woman.

"And you can't leave the others." Jean glanced at the groaning X-Men, as well as Pyro leaning semi-conscious against a wall and Blob urgently talking on his phone to some one at SHIELD headquarters. "I'm fine. The others will be back soon."

"God willing." Kurt let Jean go after Rogue, against his better judgement. The mob was at the front of the mansion, Jean was a telepath and the Professor was monitoring the cameras including the ones throughout the house. They couldn't come to any harm on the way to the bathroom.

Rogue hurried into the kitchen, threw open the back door and leant out, throwing up. Jean caught up to her and rubbed her back until the heaves subsided.

"Pleasant, huh?" Rogue tried to laugh.

"You might want to keep the door open," said Jean weakly. "I might do the same in a minute. You feel any better?"

"Not really." Rogue straightened up, keeping her hand on the doorframe to brace herself. "You never found an antidote to Pow-R-8, did you?"

"No, but we haven't had a lethal dose. We should be feeling alright in a few hours." Jean hesitated before voicing her suspicion. "The Pow-R-8 shouldn't have affected us this fast or this much through skin contact. I think some one upped the amount of toxic eliminators."

"Great." Rogue closed her eyes, enjoying the feel of the cool night air against her overheated skin. "So we might _not_ feel alright in a couple of hours."

"I don't know." Jean's vision doubled momentarily and she blinked a few times until it returned to normal. "Maybe I ought to get in touch with Doc Schwartz, see if she's had any brainwaves on the subject since the lab was closed…" She swallowed, her throat dry. Carefully, she made her way over to the fridge for a can of cola.

"Ah can't hear anything," said Rogue. "Maybe the fight's over."

"Yeah," said Jean, relishing the cold liquid at the same time as she fought her stomach to keep it down. "We ought to go back before Kurt gets worried."

"Ah guess." Rogue sighed and pushed the door gently closed…

A hand shot around the door before it could close fully, grabbing Rogue around the wrist. She gasped, trying to back away and expecting to feel the pull of the other person's memories and powers as she absorbed them, but she'd opted for opera-length gloves with a sleeveless top and the skin of her wrist was covered.

Jean stared in confusion, her senses dulled by the poison in her system. All she saw was Rogue pull backwards and then she was seemingly yanked forward, her head connecting with the door and all the fight going out of her.

_What the hell? _

Instinctively she moved forward to try to catch her falling teammate, but was struck by a wave of dizziness and when Rogue fell against her, she succeeded only in tumbling over with her.

The door swung all the way open and Jean looked up, her jumbled thoughts expecting to see one of the other X-Men coming in. Instead she saw a tall, dark haired man in dark clothes, some one she didn't recognise.

Belatedly, she decided to call for help. Her powers should have enabled her to summon aid with the speed of thought, but her mind was still working slowly and she barely had time to realise the trouble she was in before the man swung something at her and everything went black.

8888888888888

The mob were herded into the Danger Room, the only place large enough and solid enough to hold them all until a SHIELD task force could be called in to 'assist local police in their enquiries'. This being Bayville, thought Lance, it's more likely that SHIELD need to make sure they actually press charges and don't just let them all go.

Betsy came out of the Danger Room and Logan closed the door and set the computerised doors to lock them in. With a sigh of relief, Betsy released her mental hold on the mob. "It's really hard to keep a grip on lots of people at once. Good thing the Prof was keeping most of them quiet, I couldn't have done it on my own."

"Let's go check on the others, get them to the med bay," said Lance, already heading in the direction of the hallway they'd left the afflicted in. He was already wondering if he should call some of the scientists that Jean worked with, maybe they had a better idea than him how to treat her. It was just typical that they'd sent Henry McCoy, the person with the best medical knowledge in the Institute, on the field trip with the youngest X-Men.

"We need to flush out the water system and make sure the main room's totally clean before anyone else goes in there," said Wanda, needing to almost run to keep up with Lance.

"Before we do that, we need to find out how the Pow-R-8 got into the system in the first place." Pietro had given up ogling Betsy to mull over the latest problem. "Most systems take their water straight from the mains, the same line that supplies drinking water. Has anyone been to do any repair work on the water pipes?"

"I don't know." Logan looked angry to be making the admission. "That's Chuck's department."

They walked into the corridor where the ill mutants were without passing the kitchen. Tabby and Amara had both managed to get to their feet and Tabby was alternating between muttering threats and trying to assure her friend that she was alright. Bobby was still curled up on the floor. Pyro had emerged from his daze and was attempting to clean his face with his shirt. Fred was talking into his phone, as he saw the others approaching he cut off the call.

"SHIELD's sending over a team to take care of the Friends of Humanity – you did get them?"

"Was there ever any doubt?" Pietro stuck what he thought was a heroic pose and glanced sideways at Betsy. She seemed unimpressed.

"They want you to go over to the water treatment plant and see if it's been messed with. If it has, we've got more people to worry about than the X-Men, especially if Pow-R-8 affects normal humans like Jean says it does."

"Where is Jean?" asked Lance, finishing his appraisal of the group and realising that his girlfriend – no, the woman he'd been sleeping with – wasn't among them.

"She went after Rogue," said Kurt. "She needed to throw up and Jean was making sure she was alright. I had to stay and keep an eye on the others."

"How are you feeling Kurt?" asked Kitty.

"I think the fuzz saved me from much skin contact, but I really need a shower." Kurt grimaced and glanced down at his matted fur. "Can I borrow your conditioner?"

Kitty laughed at the weak joke, but Lance barely noticed the exchange although at one time he would have been seething. "What direction did they go in?"

"That way." Kurt pointed. "There's a bathroom at the end of the hall, three doors down from the kitchen."

"Got it." Lance went in the direction Kurt indicated, realising as he did so that Gambit was following. He shot a glare over his shoulder, but Gambit wasn't put off.

"Shouldn't you be helping the others to the sick bay?"

"Rogue's sick. Shouldn't you be helping de others?"

Lance growled and didn't reply, trying to ignore Remy's chuckles. They passed the kitchen on the way to the bathroom and Gambit kept going, but Lance stopped suddenly and looked into the kitchen. The door leading outside was open a fraction of an inch and there was a can of cola on the floor, a trail of the liquid drying on the floor. Nothing else was disturbed but Lance couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. Pietro had made sure there was no other way into the Institute other than the main doors and there was no sign of forced entry which meant that the door had been unlocked from the inside. But why?

"_Chere_!" He heard Gambit knocking at the bathroom door. "You alright _chere_?"

Opening the door, he noticed that some one had been ill outside. That explained the open door; it was quicker to get to the outside than to the bathroom, which meant that Rogue had probably been there with Jean close behind. So where were they now? It seemed unlikely that they'd gone out for a breath of air.

Gambit walked into the kitchen. "Dey're not there."

Lance glanced again at the cola can. "Get Logan in here. I want to know if he can pick up any scents. I'm going to see what the security cameras caught." Without waiting to see if Remy did as he said, he ran from the kitchen and headed for the control room.

The Professor was sat at the computer system, monitoring the occupants of the Danger Room. The mob had turned on each other, arguing over who was to blame, accusing each other of quitting. Lance caught a glance of them on the screen before the Professor turned to face him.

"Is something wrong Lance?"

"Jean and Rogue. Where are they?"

The Professor frowned as he did a mental sweep of the mansion. "That's odd, I can't sense them anywhere."

Lance's heart rate accelerated. "Run the video of the kitchen for the last ten minutes or so."

Professor Xavier tapped a few keys and the kitchen appeared on the screen, the time reading some 15 minutes previously, and forwarded the footage until a figure appeared.

"Play it," ordered Lance, leaning against the desk and glaring at the screen. Rogue appeared, opened the door and leaned out. A moment later, Jean walked in and began rubbing her back. There were a few minutes of conversation, silent on the camera. Jean went over to the fridge and grabbed a cola. Both girls looked unsteady on their feet, Rogue not moving from her spot by the door.

Eventually, Rogue took hold of the door and went to close it. The camera angle was blocked partially by Rogue's back, but it looked as if she was suddenly jerked forward, her face hitting the door. Jean tried to catch her and fell over with her.

A man walked through the door and hit Jean with something – Lance couldn't make out what, but it looked like a variation of the old brick-in-a-sock standby – and indicated to some one outside. Four more men walked in, gathering up the two girls and taking them out of the door.

"Are there any cameras outside?" Lance ran a hand through his hair. How had anyone got away from the mob without him noticing?

The Professor changed the view to the outdoor cameras. Lance watched as Jean and Rogue were carried toward the high walls surrounding the mansion and thrown none too gently over the top. Wordlessly, Xavier changed the view to the front of the Institute, where the camera showed the mob being herded inside. A few moments after everyone was within the mansion, the five men hurried out through the still-open gates.

"I had no idea…" The Professor held his head in his hands. "I was so busy trying to keep the majority quiet I didn't notice any stragglers."

Lance was feeling the same way about his own inattention to the stragglers but there wasn't time now for recriminations. Pushing his guilt out of his mind, he let himself slip into military mode. Running for the door, he grabbed his comm.-link and spoke into it. "Where are you?"

"Kitchen," replied Wanda, all business. "Logan's picked up a scent, thinks he can follow it. Doesn't recognise it though, so we don't know what we're up against…"

"I've seen the surveillance tapes," interrupted Lance. "I recognise the guy who knocked them out. Graydon Creed."

Wanda uttered something very unladylike. "He's untraceable for days and then he suddenly shows up out of nowhere and swipes half the X-Men?"

"We're going after him. Getting Jean and Rogue back is our top priority."

"What about SHIELD's orders?"

"Shit!" Lance remembered Fred telling them about the order to check out the water treatment plant. "Right, Pietro and Toad can go there, you come after Creed with me. We'll need Logan to go along too."

"That won't be a problem," said Wanda.

Lance made it to the kitchen and shut off his link-link as he saw the others looking at him. "Logan, can you still trace them if they took a car?"

"No problem," growled Logan. "You just worry about keeping up."

"Gambit's going with you," announced Remy, the look on his face leaving no room for argument.

"Fine," said Lance irritably. "Let's go. Tell Cyclops I took his motorbike. Quicksilver, Toad, go to the water plant. Do what you have to and then come after us."

"On it," said Pietro, grabbing Toad as he zipped out of the door.

"When SHIELD get here, tell them we're on a code 14," said Lance to Betsy as he followed Logan, Remy and Wanda out of the door.

There were only three motorcycles, so Wanda had to ride pillion on Lance's bike. They rode out to the front gate, avoiding the cars that had brought the mob to the mansion. Logan paused outside the gates and sniffed the air.

"This way." He took off down the road and the others followed.


	14. The Friends of Humanity

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Jean opened her eyes groggily. Her head pounded and she felt ill. Worse, she had no idea where she was and no idea what she'd been doing.

_Come on Jean, think… _

There had been a phoney party at the mansion so that the Brotherhood could capture the Friends of Humanity, then something had gone wrong with the sprinklers. They had been soaked in Pow-R-8 and then – what? She had followed Rogue into the kitchen and that was the last thing she remembered.

It didn't look like she'd passed out though. She was sat upright and she didn't recognise the room she was in. It looked like some kind of meeting hall, but was currently empty of people as far as she could see. Besides, if she'd passed out it was unlikely that anyone in the mansion would have secured her hands behind her back. Except maybe Lance, but that would be a mutual decision.

Her head still felt strange though and it took a few seconds to work out why. As a telepath, she could usually feel the minds of others even when she didn't want to, sense their thoughts and their whereabouts. Blocking out thoughts was harder than reading them. But now her mind felt empty, devoid of the background noise that signalled the thoughts of others.

Tipping her chin down, she felt something hard and unwieldy around her neck. Some kind of a collar. She knew she hadn't been wearing anything like that when she went to the mansion, which meant that some one had put it on her since she lost consciousness.

Trying to project her thoughts was pointless. She tried several times and managed to achieve nothing but making her headache worse. Somehow, her powers were being blocked.

Jean felt a movement behind her and tensed, ready for an attack – then a voice she recognised spoke.

"What was ah drinking last night?"

"Rogue?"

"Jean? Am ah the only one who can't move?"

"I wish. Are you wearing a collar?"

"A collar? Don't seem to be."

"There's a collar around my neck, I think it's blocking my powers."

"Ah don't have one, but don't get your hopes up. Nothing' but mah face is showing. Ah'm wearing a coat over mah dress and ah wasn't showing' much skin anyway."

"Damn!" Jean tried to look around, but saw nothing that would facilitate their escape or even give them a clue as to where they were. The only thing she could tell for sure was that she and Rogue were back to back, both tied to chairs, which in turn were tethered together. "I can't get a message to the others and there isn't anyone around. We're screwed."

She heard Rogue try blowing some hair away from her eyes. "If some one comes in, we might be able to take them anyway. These chairs are only wood, we should be able to break 'em."

"Leaving us still with our hands behind our backs," Jean remained her. "How long before anyone notices we're gone?"

"Not long," replied Rogue. "After the fight, the others would come back and check on anyone who'd been poisoned and that includes us. What ah want to know is, does whoever took us know we can be traced?"

"We have to assume that they do," said Jean. "So they want us for something else."

"Like what? They want to leave our corpses to teach the others a lesson?"

"That's cheery."

"Or maybe they want us for bait. They might be luring the others into a trap."

"I don't think so. Whoever took us must know that the X-Men are trained for fights and if they know about the Brotherhood, they might know about them working for SHIELD."

"So why the hell are we here?"

"Because of me." The strange voice came from the direction of the door and both Jean and Rogue strained to look. The man entering was tall, dark haired and wore sunglasses in spite of the darkness outside. He looked vaguely familiar to Jean and after a moment she placed him; Lance had shown her his picture and asked if she'd seen him around. She never had, until now.

He didn't seem interested in Jean however. He walked around until he was addressing Rogue, leaving Jean only able to listen in.

"I've been wanting to meet you for a long time."

"Who the hell are you?" Rogue sounded confused and angry, not a good combination.

"Graydon Creed."

"You're Mystique's kid," said Jean.

"No!" Creed walked around to Jean and got in her face. "I'm not! I cut my ties with her when I realised she was a freak of nature! Just like you people!"

"Cutting your ties with a person doesn't mean that you're not their child," said Jean, knowing she was only antagonising him and hoping she remembered enough of her Danger Room training if things got ugly.

"That's where you're wrong," said Creed. "I realised years ago that I was the only person around who knew the truth about mutants, long before they were exposed. I've been put on this earth to do something about atrocities like you."

"Something like what?"

"I'm letting people know about the threat you pose. I founded the Friends of Humanity and every day the number of people who believe in what we do grows. Mutants cannot be allowed to live."

"So you're my big brother," said Rogue sarcastically.

"I am NOT your brother!" Creed went over to Rogue, looking as if he were thinking of hitting her and deciding against it. "You were adopted! You are NOT my blood!"

"But Mystique and Sabretooth are," said Rogue. "Why did you come after me and Jean then?"

"I didn't," said Creed petulantly. "Anyone would have done. I was hoping for that blue-furred freak but you came along first."

"You're just pissed because he's really your brother," said Rogue with a smirk. "What would your Friends of Humanity buddies do if they knew the truth?"

"SHUT UP!" Creed punched Rogue in the ribs, protected from the pull of her powers by her clothes. Jean heard her gasp and narrowed her eyes, momentarily forgetting about her lack of powers and attempting a psychic message to Lance.

"I'm human," said Creed. "And you're not. You have to be eradicated!"

"This isn't really about mutants at all," said Jean, trying to get him away from Rogue. "You've got abandonment issues! It's quite sweet really."

"What are you talking about, freak?"

"Well, Mystique wouldn't have ditched you if you were a mutant and now you want to take it out on anyone who _is_ a mutant!"

"Trying to psychoanalyse me tied to a chair, _Dr_ Grey? I didn't know that was your area of expertise." Creed wandered away from them and looked out of a window. "We'll be having company shortly."

"You have no idea," muttered Rogue.

"Who?" asked Jean suspiciously.

"Some of my associates," replied Creed. "The most senior members of the Friends of Humanity, to see for themselves the results of the collar you're wearing Dr Grey."

"That's what's blocking my powers," said Jean.

"Works well, doesn't it? We've managed some test subjects before but none as powerful as you. When we introduce these to the world, I anticipate they'll become the law within a few years. You'll have to wear one all the time, so you might as well get used to it."

"Not that she'll get the chance," interrupted another voice from the door.

"Ah, you're here. At last." Creed gestured to the door. "These are my colleagues. Guy Spears, as you know, is the genius behind Pow-R-8."

"Some genius," snarled Jean. "Did you know that Pow-R-8 is also toxic to humans in large doses?"

Spears, flanked by five other men, shrugged as the group walked into the room, the door swinging closed behind them. "Wouldn't matter if it was. I have the antidote."

"You have the antidote? How?" Jean strained to make out the faces of the men behind him and gasped when she recognised one of them. "_Andy_?"

Andy Johnson, research assistant at Jean's lab, grinned widely at her. "I warned you about getting involved with that creep from SHIELD. How do you think I knew this would happen?"

"You know this puny little shit?" Rogue sounded incredulous.

"He works in the lab," said Jean wearily. "He was the one who found out that Pow-R-8 is poisonous to humans too."

"That's not strictly true actually," said Andy. "I replaced the sample of Pow-R-8 with another version that Mr Spears cooked up. Affected human blood, but the kind that's on sale doesn't. Your research is about to be discredited when the Government scientists replicate your study. You're screwed Jean."

"But why? Why would you do that?"

""Because I believe in what the Friends of Humanity do," replied Andy. "I could keep an eye on you and make sure that your research into Pow-R-8 got nowhere with my job in the lab. And my knowledge was invaluable when we created the prototype of the collar."

Jean glared at him. "I trusted you and all the time you were sabotaging us? Were you responsible for the attack on the church? Or the café?"

"I authorised them," said Creed. "But none of us were directly involved. You can't prove anything."

"Innocent people were killed!"

"They were mutants!"

"Your own parents were mutants!" Rogue tried to whip her head around to better see what was happening. "You have a brother and a sister, both mutants, and that doesn't mean _anything_ to you?"

"She's lying," said Creed coldly.

"We know you couldn't have been in the mansion," said Jean. "You must have contaminated the water supply at the plant with Pow-R-8 and that we _can_ prove."

"That substance isn't harmful to humans," said Andy. "A court ruled yesterday that attempting to kill mutants isn't a crime. It was an employee acting on their own without the knowledge of Mr Spears; at least that's what people will believe. There's nothing you can do Jean."

"So what _did_ you bring us here for?" asked Jean. "To gloat? To test your new toy?"

Creed smirked. "We know the collar works now. Frankly, we have no further need for either of you. The X-Men will try to find you. We know that. But by the time they get here, we'll be long gone – and so will you."

Jean watched Creed pull a gun out from a holster beneath his jacket and began trying to turn her head around, knowing there was only one thing left to do and praying that Rogue had the same idea. Unless she could somehow manage to make skin contact, they were both dead.

00000000000000000000000000

"Nice neighbourhood," said Wanda as they cruised slowly down the street behind Logan, who was periodically lifted his visor to sniff the air. "Is he even sure we're going in the right direction?"

"He better be," muttered Lance, who was wondering the same thing himself, in between recriminating himself for letting Jean out of his sight. Knowing that he'd had no choice and that events had conspired to give them a huge stroke of bad luck didn't make it any easier. Creed had killed before and there was no reason for him to keep either Jean or Rogue alive.

_Please don't let us be too late… _

Logan swerved his motorbike to the side of the road and Lance did the same, followed by Gambit. They killed the engines on the bikes and watched as Logan sniffed the air.

"They went in here." He indicated to a nearby building, a two-storey members bar that was closed, protective shutters down and covered in graffiti. Other local businesses were also closed and at least two of them were boarded up. The only open shop was at the end of the street, but there was a faint light from the top storey of the members club.

"Some one's up there, that's for sure." Lance checked out the building. "Wanda can you get us in?"

"Easy." Wanda touched the shutter over the door and it disintegrated under her fingers, having used her hex powers to age the metal hundreds of years in an instant. The door it hid was locked, but a swipe of Logan's claws took care of that.

Before they could set foot inside, they heard shots coming from upstairs.

00000000000000000000000000

Staring down the barrel of a gun wasn't a new experience for Jean, but it wasn't something she'd been afraid of before. Her powers could block bullets with a protective shield, or change their direction so they lodged harmlessly into walls.

Without her powers, it might be the last thing she ever saw.

She whipped her head to the right wildly and Rogue had the same idea, leaning backward and turning her head. Normally it wouldn't have worked, both girls had long hair which they'd worn down that night – but the Pow-R-8 that had rained on them earlier had dried their hair into sticky clumps down their backs and there was nothing blocking their cheeks from touching. It was only for a moment, but a moment was all it took. Rogue's powers took effect, draining Jean's telekinesis even though Jean couldn't use it. Rogue on the other hand had no collar on and no such restrictions.

Rogue couldn't see Creed from her position but she knew it was only a matter of seconds before he pulled the trigger. The knowledge spurred her into action, using Jean's powers to pull the two chairs across the floor and out of the line of fire. A split-second later Creed pulled the trigger, the bullet flying through the air where Jean had been moments earlier.

"Get them!" Creed opened fire at the girls and Rogue managed to put up a force field to protect them – but she knew she had a problem. It took all of her concentration just to keep them from being shot and she wasn't familiar enough with Jean's powers to do two things at once. The touch had been only brief and she was afraid that the telekinesis might wear off before she was able to free them.

"Jean, ah've got a problem here!"

"You've got to get us free. Just try to envision the ropes. You've got the force field up, you don't need to think about it too hard." Jean was feeling woozy herself after touching Rogue but she knew she couldn't afford to pass out. That would be as good as suicide.

"I think I've got it!" Rogue concentrated desperately and Jean tried to refrain to tell her to hurry up. The other six men were pulling out their own weapons and there was no way Rogue could concentrate on keeping up a shield that strong and be able to free them too. And there was no telling how long Rogue would retain the telekinesis.

The floor began to shake.

The men stumbled, trying to keep their footing. Jean smiled in sheer relief. There was only one person who could do something like that…

The door flew open and in stormed Avalanche, pissed off and looking for a fight. He spied Creed trying to keep his feet and grabbed him, throwing him backwards against the wall and laying into him with his fists.

Spears aimed his gun at the door only to be distracted by a glowing playing card flying toward him. He ducked just in time; the card exploded and Logan, Gambit and Wanda burst through the door.

With an inarticulate roar, Logan went after the men, taking two bullets in an arm before he was on them, splitting Andy's gun in two and knocking him to the floor. He lashed out with his claws and the men scattered.

Gambit headed over to Rogue and Jean, using his powers to burn through the ropes that bound them. Rogue stood up and threw her arms around him for a moment before standing back and pretending she'd just been caught in the moment. Gambit smirked and headed back into the fray.

Jean headed over to Wanda. "Can you give me a hand with the collar?"

"Sure." Wanda released her hold on one of the men she was holding with her powers and disintegrated the collar beneath her touch. "Better?"

"Much." Jean gave a grim smile. "And if that was the prototype, it was probably the only one. Shame."

She turned and looked at the scene. Most of the Friends of Humanity were down, Creed lying in a foetal position against a wall, Andy not seeming hurt but staying down anyway. Spears was still upright but only just; his gun had been sliced off at the barrel and was tussling with Gambit. Logan was glaring at his arm, watching it heal and Wanda was cuffing a couple of the guys lying on the floor. Jean had a chance to wonder where in the skimpy party outfit Wanda had kept the cuffs when she saw Lance coming toward her.

He wrapped his arms around her waist and held her tightly. "Did they hurt you?"

"They tried," she said shakily, leaning her head on his shoulder. She noticed Creed attempt to stand, grabbing the gun he'd dropped when Lance attacked him.

"Look out!" She formed a force field around herself and Lance as the gun went off, the bullet bouncing harmlessly off it. Wanda threw a hex-bolt at Creed and the gun exploded. Creed yelled as shards of metal burned into his skin.

"Shit!" Lance turned and glared at Creed, nursing his injured hand, before turning back to Jean. "No fair. I came here to save _your_ life!"

"You did," replied Jean, reaching up to give him a soft kiss.

"Can we save it for later you two?" Wanda glanced over at them, trying to look stern.

"Sure, yeah." Lance kept one arm around Jean and ignored Logan's glare, reaching for his comm.-link. "Quicksilver?"

"Finished at the water plant," said Pietro over the link. "Lots of Pow-R-8 in the system, had to turn off the whole towns supply. And SHIELD back up just got here; they're looking for prints. How are things there?"

"Under control." Lance glanced over as Wanda cuffed Creed none too gently, ignoring his pleas about his injured hand. "Got our co-ordinates?"

"Yeah, there's a team on their way. Bayville's overrun with SHIELD operatives, Kelly's gotta be hating that."

Lance allowed himself a grin at the smug tone in Pietro's voice. "I'll wait for them to get here, then I'm taking Jean home."

"But – but Fury wants us to report to him in an hour…"

"So report to him. Tell him to call me in the morning." Lance shut off the comm.-link as the sound of heli-jets was heard outside.

"Are you insane?" Wanda shot Lance a startled look. "Fury'll go insane!"

"I'll deal with Fury," said Logan. "Take Jean home."

Jean looked at Logan in surprise and Rogue laughed. "Ah think you're going soft."

"Don't push it Stripes," growled Logan. "Cajun, take her back to the mansion and check on everyone else. I'll wait here."

Jean pulled Lance out of the door before Logan could change his mind and start being awkward, looking down at her skin stained by Pow-R-8 and hair stuck in wild clumps. "It's a good thing the effects didn't last all that long. But I can't wait to get into the shower."

"Me either," said Lance ruefully, glancing down at his torn suit.

"I don't think there's that much hot water."

Lance shrugged, smirking. "I'm sure we'll be able to think of something."


	15. Epilogue

Thanks to Enfant-terrible for reviewing! Hope your Grandma is OK and your new year is better than your old year.

Author Note: I will have two new fics up in the new year, a humour called 'Viva Lost Wages' which is a humour fic and an end-of-the-world fic called 'And I Feel Fine' that should be good. Hope you'll check them out!

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Jean woke up slowly, relishing the chance to lie in bed next to her lover. Lance was still fast asleep, breathing heavily in a way that couldn't quite be called snoring. She reached across his chest and began toying with his nipples.

"Mmmmm…" Lance put his hand up, still half-asleep, and caught her wrist.

"What's up?" Jean lowered her head to his other nipple and bit it gently. Lance finally opened his eyes and put his arm around her waist.

"Nothing at all." He pulled her across him so her body was sprawled over his, both of them naked after the previous nights shower, when they'd been to tired to do more than spoon.

When Lance's phone rang, Jean levitated it in the air with the unconscious intention of smashing it against the wall. She knew that Lance had to leave. But did it have to be now?

Without looking, Lance snatched the phone out of mid-air and put it to his ear. "What?"

"It's me."

"Fury? Do me a favour and fuck off."

Jean gasped at the blasphemy but Fury seemed unaffected. "Busy are you?"

"Very."

"Then I'll give it to you short. We can't charge Creed with anything."

"WHAT?"

Lance sat up in bed, unable to believe his ears. He also managed to dislodge Jean, who was trying to reconcile herself to the fact that Lance was about to leave.

"It's the mutant thing. Until a judge in a higher court rules that mutants are humans, we can't charge him with a crime. On a positive note, we can charge Andrew Johnson with tampering with research."

"That doesn't help."

"And we can charge Guy Spears with tampering with water samples."

"If mutants can't be protected by the law, then we can't be used as evidence. You know that."

"I'm sorry." Fury actually did sound sorry. "We've got charges of attempted murder, terrorism, property damage – I guess this isn't helping either."

"Damn right." Lance glared at the wall while Jean tried to find her clothes. She wasn't going to drag out the goodbye. Maybe she could cry on Rogue's shoulder when the Brotherhood had gone.

"I thought all of you could use a break," continued Fury. "So you've got a weeks leave. But then you'll need to be back at work. There's a situation in Brazil that I don't think's gonna get better. And you'll be on call."

"Brazil?" Lance lay back in bed and stared at the ceiling.

"Gang of thugs beating tourists to death for their money. It'll be a cakewalk."

"Yeah."

"So enjoy your leave and I'll see you at my desk at 0900 next Monday." Fury terminated the call without saying goodbye and Lance let his arm fall away from his ear, dropping the phone by the side of the bed.

He didn't want to leave.

It was hard for him to admit to himself. Ever since he got to Bayville he'd disliked the town and that grew to active hate when mutants were exposed. He'd stayed because he'd had nowhere else to go and left the moment something better was offered, but coming back had reintroduced him to an old enemy – and he'd fallen in love with her. There was no point in denying it anymore. An extra week might give them more time together but when it was over he'd still have to leave.

Jean had dressed in a hurry and was determined not to show that she cared. She'd heard Lance's half of the conversation before she decided to go into the living room and watch the news. Brazil? At least she knew where he was. And she had only herself to blame anyway. She was the one who'd come on to him. She didn't have enough sense to stay away from a man she knew would be leaving Bayville forever.

Lance opened the bedroom door just as Jean was watching the news. Graydon Creed was on the screen, standing on the steps of the Bayville Police station showing his delight about being freed without charge and announcing his intention to run for Governor. He cringed. He'd wanted to break the news to her gently before she could see it on the national news.

The picture changed, showing the newsreader. "In a related story, it has been revealed that a saboteur was in fact responsible for a laboratory finding soft drink Pow-R-8 toxic to humans. The drink is actually not harmful to non-mutants. The owner of the company, Guy Spears, had this to say."

Cut to Guy Spears, also outside the Bayville Police station. "It's saddening to think that some people are so determined to discredit Pow-R-8 that they would go so far as to doctor the results of an experiment because no evidence of toxic eliminators being harmful exists. I can reassure you all that Pow-R-8 is perfectly safe."

The newsreader reappeared on the screen. "That was Guy Spears earlier today. In other news, a local dog named 'Bingo' was the hero in a…"

Jean hit the mute button as she sensed Lance approaching her. "It never ends, does it? Spear's gets to suggest that _I _was the one who messed with the sample, not some one he was working with. No mention of those guys trying to kill us. No mention of an attack on a private residence. Hell, they didn't even say anything about the contaminated water!"

"Maybe they're trying to avoid a panic," said Lance.

"They're trying to avoid making those guys look like villains," said Jean. "If they're the villains, that makes us the heroes. They can't let that happen."

Lance walked around the sofa and sat beside her, outing an arm around her shoulders. "It won't always be like this."

Jean leant against him. "I want to believe that, but at times like this I wonder."

"Don't say that! You're one of the few people who really believed that humans and mutants could live side by side. Being here the past few days made me think that maybe you were right all along, maybe we can find a place in the world."

Jean allowed herself to be comforted by his words and the feel of his body close to hers. "So, uh, it sounded like you're going to Brazil."

"Not yet," replied Lance. "We're going in a week. We've got some time off."

"So…you'll be staying for a little longer?" Jean felt hope blossom within her and crushed the emotion. Lance no doubt had a place of his own and stuff to do there.

"I was thinking…" Lance trailed off as he tried to think of a way to say what he wanted to. "Maybe I could stay here until I have to go back. And then I could get a place in Bayville."

Jean sat up in a hurry, turning to look into his face so she could be sure he wasn't joking. "You want to come back to Bayville?"

"Hell no!" Lance took a deep breath. "But if it's where you are then it's where I want to come back to. If you want me to come back to you that is."

"Of course that's what I want!" Jean threw her arms around him. "You mean it?"

"I don't want to quit SHIELD," said Lance. "The Brotherhood are my family. But if I have to quit I will. I know it's gonna be hard with me being gone so much, but if you'll be here then I'll always come back."

"I don't want you to quit," said Jean. "I know you love your job. But if you'll come back, I'll be here."

"I'll always come back – I want to be with you." Lance felt uncharacteristically shy. "And in the meantime, I've got a week or so before I have to go anywhere. You want to get the hell away from here for a while?"

"Where would we go?"

"We'll hire a car, drive around for a while. I'll switch off my phone, you can leave your communicator behind and we'll drive around America, talk, book into whatever hotels we come across, do anything you wanna do."

"That's reckless and impulsive. I love it!" Jean kissed Lance on the lips. "Give me ten minutes to throw some clothes into a bag."

"Wait, who said you needed clothes?" Lance tightened his arms around her and kissed her back more probingly.

Jean finally came up for air. "Let's get out of here before someone disturbs us."

Lance thought of the Brotherhoods ability to break in to apartments, the abilities of Kitty and Kurt. "You're right. The last thing we need is for anyone to find us."

Jean ran into the bedroom and began throwing clothes into a bag. Lance picked up his phone and glanced at it – and as he did it began to ring. Wanda's name appeared on the screen. For a moment Lance just looked at the phone and then he cut the call off mid-ring and hit the off button. He had a pager if it was urgent. In the meantime he had no desire to make small talk with the others. He was going to spend the rest of the free time they had doing something just for himself.

He looked up as Jean came back into the room, holdall in hand. "Are we going then?"

"Damn right." Lance considered packing some clothes for himself and then decided they just had to leave. There would be somewhere on the way he could pick up fresh clothes. In the meantime he wanted to give himself and Jean some time together without any interruption and the longer they stayed, the longer they risked that.

They walked to the nearest car dealership and her paid in cash for a beat-up looking jeep that reminded him of his first ever car. Then they drove it away, not bothering to look back.


End file.
